Day 14: We're Shippin' Off Ta Dublin, Way-ay-oh~!

Today was a day of mass transit. And while the trains were built by the Japanese, their regularity and pathing were not.

This day started off, like most, with breakfast. The second most important meal of the morning. I had toast and cereal. Angie had toast and fruit. There was tea involved, but I'm only mostly sure I was the one drinking it. Plans were discussed and something resembling a route was planned. Like most plans, it did not survive contact with The Enemy (in this case, The Enemy are the streets of Dublin and also other tourists). 

 

After breakfast, our host at this B&B (a man called Joe who used to be a taxi driver here in Dublin) offered to drive us up to Malahide train station. We had originally planned to take the bus into the city, but I am a man who prefers his transit to follow rails. As a sidebar, the word for railway in Gaelic is Iarnród (Iron Road). Isn't learning educational? We embarked at Malahide Station and road the express line to Tara Road Station. From there, we hoofed it to our first destination: Trinity College Dublin. 

There are a few things which Trinity College Dublin is known for, but the biggest is that some ponce called Oscar Wilde went to school there for a few weeks before dropping out to write poems in the park and complain about the English. Those being popular pastimes in his era. The second biggest is probably the Book of Kells (more on that in the next paragraph, so keep following along), followed by the Library. 

Where to start with the Book of Kells? Well, the best place is probably the wibbly-drawn animated movie called Secret of Kells. You can watch it here, if you're so inclined. The titular Book is an illuminated manuscript of the Gospels of the New Testament. So if you're in the Jesus Fandom, this thing is right up your alley. Due to transcription errors, a lot of AUs popped up in the 400s to 1400s CE. The Book of Kells is the most beautifully produced of the lot. Every once in a while (not daily, despite the many vocal idiots on the Internet who will tell you otherwise), the page on display is changed. Today, ours was Saint John doing a little pose. I would include a picture here, but there were many signs telling people (in several languages) that no photos were allowed. So I followed the instructions. Unlike several dumb, dumb Americans (I know they were American by their accents, and also because Rednecks can sense our own) who insisted on taking photos (with their iPads like Philistines), who were then politely asked to delete their photos and then leave the building for not following the rules. 

Speaking of rules, what the hecking heck is with the lack of proper queuing layout in museums here? One would assume that in the Land of Queues and Chips that there'd be better layout progression in museums, but no. Every single one is like walking into a Corn Maze while blasted out of your mind on a Cube of Natural Light that you drank on the drive over. 

Anyway, after the Book of Kells (which is another thing that the Scots try to claim, because of course they do) we headed upstairs to the Main Library of Trinity College Dublin. This place was huge. Massive. And quiet, the way libraries should be. Piles of old books on older shelves. All flanked by the disembodied busts of Olde Whitee Mene, several of whom you may have heard of. Newton's bust was particularly disturbing, as it was missing his effervescent flowing hair. The shame of it all!
 

We exited through the gift shop, as Banksy intended, and headed across the street to the Dublin Tourist Information Center. Later, we found out that this wasn't some official Dublin City provided shop. No, this was a For Profit Company that was merely masquerading as an official Dublin City provided shop. The absolute gall of these people. After buying four tickets for their Hop On Hop Off bus, we hopped on. The bus took us through the streets of Dublin, pointing out sights mere minutes before or after we arrived there. I blame it on traffic and the fact that they used recordings instead of live tour guides.

 

After riding around for a while, we hopped off and grabbed a snack at a local eatery called Flanagan's. Angie's cousin Katie worked here back in Ought Five or so. So that was weird. The place was nice. We had a garlic and cheese bread, while Jim and Mary split a piece of apple pie. Once we'd finished, we hopped back on the bus to head vaguely towards The Gaol. 

**Angie side note: Kilmainham Jail is supposedly haunted! Keep your eyes peeled, mayhaps there be a ghost hiding in these photos!**

 

Killmonger  Killtrocity   Killian Dane  Caerbannog  Kilmainham Gaol (pronounced kill-MAIN-um Jail, no I am not kidding) was used as a reformatory prison during the period of 1790 to 1924. Its main claims to fame were during the Great Famine and the Easter Rising (no, that's not another Jesus Fandom AU). First, the Great Famine. During the Great Famine, there was a famine. Despite the name, it wasn't great for anyone involved. Lots of people died. Several people got the bright idea to commit minor crimes so that they'd be arrested and thrown in jail so that they could get some food. This worked too well for too many people and the jail got super crowded and was decidedly Not A Good Time. Well, not that jail ever is, but this was Worse. Several decades, and two failed rebellions, later there was a bit of a fight about whether or not the Irish were people. The people of Now call it the Easter Rising. A bunch of educators and poets and artists decided that enough was enough so they burnt down and shot up a bunch of places to make their point. Many a folk died. The people who lead the Easter Rising were then mostly put to death in Kilmainham. Years after their execution, they were viewed as martyrs to the cause and were held up as heroes of the Irish Revolution. Unfortunately, at the time, they were thought of as "assholes" who "really fecked this whole thing up, I mean, we was about to get Home Rule from the Brits, fer feck sake". Our tour guide, who's name I did not get but who looked like the sort of educator who would probably help plan out a rebellion if the need arose, was very passionate and informative. Plus, I got to see a real life Panopticon. That was cool. 

 

There is a Nelson Mandela display going on at the moment. They had his speeches playing in some of the jail cells which totally overrode any chance of doing an EVP session! RUDE!

Back on the bus! 

 

Next, we road around for a bit taking in the sights (which we'd already seen) and mostly just using the bus as a cheap taxi service that went along a certain route with pre-planned stops. Which we then shared with 30+ other people. Some nerd out in California should figure out how to monetize these things. I'm sure it'll happen soon enough. Anyway, after all this talk of Great Famines and Rebellion, we went to a local Japanese restaurant and had some foods. I had some passable ramen (well, passable as ramen - it wasn't good enough that anyone from Japan would actually say that it was ramen or good), Angie had a katsu curry. We sit and talked for a while before walking back to the train station and riding the Iarnród back to Malahide (Mulloch Ide). We tracked down a taxi to take us the remaining two kilometers, because we're all old and it was dark.

 

And now we're here. Getting the last of our preparations together for the flight back tomorrow. I'm not sure if this will be our last entry, or if we'll put one together tomorrow as sort of a wrap-up on the whole trip. We'll see.

Until next time. Peace, out.