Second Verse, Same as the First

 Hi family!

And, ya know, sorry for the absence. I was just moving around so much that I never seemed to have time to crack open a laptop, for my blog or for anything else. But I’ve got a couple of days of not doing anything, so hopefully I can catch up!

Now, let’s see, where did I leave off….

Last day in Dublin, right.

So I woke up my last morning in Dublin, and I ate breakfast, and cleaned up my stuff, and then I decided to take a stroll through the parts of Dublin I hadn’t seen, and visit a couple of sights I hadn’t gotten around to.

First, I walked across the river and through Temple Bar, which is one of the most famous parts of Dublin, especially for partiers. I walked through in the morning, though, which is its own kind of interesting. It’s a nice, closed off, pedestrian section of Dublin, but it also kind of looks like you’d expect the nightlife-intense section of the town to look in the morning. I did find a Cornish pasty stand, and decided that it was going to be brunch, because I only ever get those when I’m in England, and they’re one of my favorite foods. So I was very happy.

Then I wandered my way over to Christ Church Cathedral, where I was a little early for the 12:15 mass, so I wandered around a bit instead. I saw the old city wall, and another little church, and sat in some nice gardens for a bit. Then I headed back to the church, and went to… no, not mass, Eucharist. Because, (and this I find FASCINATING) both of the major cathedrals in Dublin are NOT Catholic, despite Ireland being a HIGHLY Catholic country, they’re… Church of Ireland/Church of England/Episcopal. And I mean, it kind of makes sense. Because Ireland was under British control for a LONG time, and throughout their occupation, Dublin was always the part of the country that the English had the best handle on. And, while I’m pretty sure Dublin is still majority Catholic, the Church of England would have the biggest sway there, and I’m sure that just because the government left, the church wasn’t going to give up two such beautiful and important cathedrals, so Christ Church and Saint Patrick’s cathedrals in Dublin remain CoE. CoI. Whatever.

However, despite all this, it still was a noon service in a minority religion on a weekday. And it was rainy too. So there were only 3 people at the service. Total. One was a priest, the other did a reading, and then there was me. It was actually a really interesting experience, because it’s Episcopal, so they still do the smells and bells and all, but it was kind of a no-nonsense service, because… and I know that the theology of this isn’t great, there was nobody to perform to. There were 3 of us, and we mumbled our way through the confessions and choral parts (there was no singing. Thank goodness) and the priest did all his parts as he should, but… I don’t know, it was a strange thing to witness. But I’m glad I did.

After the service, I left that church, and headed down to the other Cathedral in town, St. Patrick’s. For this one I actually bothered to buy a ticket, and I walked around for a while, and saw what there was to see. According to legend, this church is founded on the site of a well that St. Patrick used to baptize people in when he was running around Ireland preaching the Word and driving out snakes (the snakes are a metaphor for pagans). But yeah, it was a nice cathedral. Actually, Christ Church officially marked the 12^th cathedral I’ve been to since I got over to Europe. So, lots of cathedrals. And I’ve seen more since.

Anyway, after St. Patrick’s, I headed back towards St. Stephen’s green, and found another pub that Dr. O’Neill had recommended. I had a nice cup of soup, because it was raining outside, and a little bit chilly, and beef stew was just what I needed. And then I went to a park, where I stumbled upon the Oscar Wilde monument, which, was just the perfectest monument to him I could think of. I’ve got pictures, but they’re in another post. There was a statue of him, in color, leaning up against a rock, but then there were these two posts, and I don’t even know if they are part of the monument proper, but they are these black boxy posts with a statue of a man and a woman on top of them, and I’m pretty sure that it wasn’t planned like this, but it’s my favorite part. Somebody, or many somebodies, had written quotes all over the posts. Quips, and wit, and sage words of wisdom from Oscar Wilde covered those posts in purple writing. And I just thought that was a wonderful, democratic contribution to the tribute to Wilde.

And then I actually passed the house where he lived, and the one where he was born, as I made my way across the river, and back to the hostel.

I collected my bags, and headed to the train station. I had a short wait there, where (for those of you who read ASOIAF/watch Game of Thrones) I read the Red Wedding. So that was traumatic. But I got through it, and got on my train down to Rosslare, to get back on the Oscar Wilde, and head back to France.

The train ride was a little nerve-wracking because it was a different train than I’d come down on, and I was just sort of generally nervous that I wasn’t going to make it in time or something, but it all worked out, and I got to the ferry terminal in time to have a cup of tea and a small snack before we were shuttled out to the ship.

There were fewer people on the ferry this time, and fewer foot passengers too. Though I suspect that is because I had come over to Ireland on a Thursday after Easter, and left it on a Wednesday that was sort of just in the middle of the week. Not to mention that the ferry before the one I had come over on had been canceled. But the other foot passengers were very nice, and we had some interesting conversations. There was a woman from Canada with her son and daughter and their husbands, and then a couple from New Zealand that seemed to have traveled everywhere. And we chatted quite a bit, both on the way to the ferry, and on the way off of it. And it’s cool to meet people like that.

And other than that, the ferry ride was fairly uneventful. Not really different from the last one. I was in a less-full cabin so I had more room to spread out, and I had a nice dinner of ribs (because I was really craving some sort of barbeque, and the restaurant smelled REALLY good) as the ship departed, and then I went up to my room and went to sleep.

The next morning, I chilled and read and didn’t do terribly much. I watched The Book Thief, because it was playing in the cinema on the ship, and I didn’t have anything much to do, and I wanted to see it. It was very good. Never as faithful as I would like to the book, but a worthy adaptation. And very sad. And after the movie, I chilled for a bit longer before the boat landed in Cherbourg and I got off and walked towards my airbnb.

The airbnb was very nice. More like a BnB than just a room in somebody’s house. And it was very nice, because I DESPERATELY needed to do laundry, and she let me use her washer. While my clothes were washing, I went to dinner down by the harbor, which was a nice walk. Unfortunately, it was Labor Day in… most of the rest of the world, so most restaurants were closed, but I found a place to eat. My host didn’t have a dryer, so I planned to go to a Laundromat to dry my clothes, but when I got there it was closed, so I had to hang everything up in my room to dry. And then I watched Clue, which was funny, and strange, and most importantly, had Tim Curry and Madeline Kahn. And then I went to bed.