My Dublin Life

One of the really cool things about Ireland is that it's small, so places are closer together than you think. For instance, the landscape changes really dramatically when you travel from east to west. You can hardly believe that you're in the same country. My friendly greengrocer, sage and general dispenser of wisdom on all things Irish, told me that when he was young, Galways was up to four and a half, even five hours away. Now, it's more like two, two and a half. He said: "You wouldn't believe the state of the roads back in those days."

The new, good roads make lots of places accessible for day trips from Dublin whereas I guess before you'd have to stay the night. Anyways, next weekend, the 25th/26th, I've been invited to accompany my friends Mom (in lieu of my friend who is a) away and b) not interested) on a day trip to a place called New Ross, where there's a piano festival. It's in Wexford, not far from where my uncle is bunked up, and less than two hours away apparently! I love Saoirse's Mom. She is a real Dubliner. She lives in a posh suburb on the south side now, but she grew up in the Liberties, and like to cook traditional Dublin food like coddle and stuff. Now that I know how to cook, I must ask her to show me how one of these days.

The Fringe Festival is rollicking on and only budgetary constraint are stopping me from seeing a show, or even two or three, every night. Tonight, though? Jazz! Yay!

Well, I've been totally chilled all day. Last night, I went to see a show in the Fringe Festival that freaked me out. I guess that's a good thing because it just shows how powerful theatre can be, but it's spooky.

The name of the show was "Jerk", and it was a puppet show about a horrendous serial killer. That probably sounds weird and, in fact, it was pretty weird. But it was also very powerful stuff. I'm glad I went, but I wouldn't recommend it to anyone of a nervous disposition. Boy, I think I need to be sure that the next thing I go to see is a comedy show.

Anyways, today is my housemate's birthday and while he's going out with some friends later on (I'm staying in; tired from working too hard), I've been shopping for ingredients to make him a special meal. I love the area I live in, just on the north side of the river, for shopping, because it's got the best stores. Just five minutes' away from our place there's a famous fishmongers, Kish. It's in Smithfield, which is a really old neighbourhood. I got some large fresh sardines, and I'll grill them and make a provencale sauce. It's such a buzz for me, being able to cook stuff, because just a year ago all I could manage was soup! I actually owe Bepe a lot. He taught me how to cook and even set me up with my current job in the restaurant. Love it.

Anyways, while I was at the shop, I ran into a couple from Maine, who are over in Ireland on an extended holiday and, of course, being from Maine, like to eat a lot of fish. They asked me about good places to shop, so I took them on a whistlestop tour of the area, leaving them in Moore Street. I think they were suitably impressed by the pigs' feet and heads on the display in the windows of the traditional butchers up there!!

I've just had some news that I'm a little ambivalent about. On the one hand, I've been promised a much-coveted ticket to go see the GAA Gaelic football fan in Croke Park. On the other, I'm not so sure that it's my thing. In theory, I'm all for Gaelic games -- they're fast, they're exciting and I love the fact that there are so many years of history behind them. But I feel like a bit of a fraud taking a ticket and going to stand in the stadium with all the fans! I guess I'll try to get swept up in the excitement of the whole thing. I've been in Croke Park before, and it's pretty nice. And I do like the buzz in the city when there's a big match and all of a sudden the city centre is chock full of culchies up for the day. Just last week, there was a massive hurling match and the streets were full of supporters wearing blue (Tipperary) or black-and-yellow (Kilkenny). When it was all over, the Tipperary fans celebrated and the Kilkenny fans drowned their sorrows in the same pubs all over the city. It's pretty cool the way the fans don't get mad at each other! And as a culchie myself, albeit not an Irish culchie, I'm on their side when it comes to deflecting sarcastic remarks tossed in their general direction by the Dublin crew.

If you ever needed proof of the wonderful Irish ability to poke fun of themselves, check out the Culchie Festival, an annual event. You couldn't make this stuff up!!

Tonight's a rare occasion: me and my flatmate are both off work at the same time and as despite working in the same restaurant and living in the same flat we've hardly exchanged a word for weeks, we're gonna put on our glad rags and head out. I feel like going somewhere fancy, so I'm thinking maybe the Church (which is also convenient for the quick stagger back to our place) but he's more a sports-boy, so if I'm not careful I'll end up in one of those places where thousands of sweaty guys raise their pint glasses and shout at the high-definition TV, and we still won't have exchanged more than a couple of words by the end of the evening!

One of my friends from the restaurant just talked me into something I know I'm gonna regret. It involves getting dressed up in bridal gear (thank you, Oxfam charity shop) and running two kilometres in an attempt to fundraise for a charity.

No sooner had I agreed to this scheme than my friend told basically everybody either of us knows, so there'll be plenty of onlookers to poke fun. I told my Mom and her comment was "I was hoping to see you in a wedding dress, dear, but this isn't exactly what I had in mind."

Sheesh. Anyways, here's the deal.  Appropriately enough, the money raised will go to a psychiatric hospital.

While we're on the topic of fundraising, apparently one of my favorite paintings in the Irish National Gallery, Jack Yeats's Liffy Swim, is going to be recreated on Saturday when loads of swimmers get into the murky-looking waters of the River Liffy (it's a tidal river, so there's seaweed on the edges, it's actually perfectly clean). My friendly greengrocer remarked that "It was a bigger challenge years ago when the Liffey was still polluted, but today's boyos don't know the half of it." I love the way that guy talks. And I wish I had the guys to strip down to a swimming costume and take to the water, but it ain't gonna happen!!

...and also in Ireland. Boy, is it raining right now!

Last week, we residents of Dublin were enjoying a real Indian summer. Anyone who had packed away the sandals and shorts for another year had to root them out and there were last barbecues going on in every second garden.

Well, today it's a whole 'nother story. The temperature dropped, it's windy and autumn is really in the air. For me, this is the perfect excuse to buy a proper winter coat; a real wool one. I've been saving my pennies and although some people consider it a tourist trap, following my visit there with my mom last year, I have a sneaking foodness for the Blarney Woolen Mills and will be going there on a fact-finding mission later today. My grandmother always told me, "You can save money on most clothes, but nothing beats a good coat." Well, we come from a place where the winters are serious and in consequence I have the deepest respect for a good coat. I get most of my clothes in flea markets and  hippie stalls around town so my thinking here is that I deserve something warm and snug, and costing a little more than five Euros.

Anyways, on the entertainment front the people of Dublin are doing their usual thing and flocking out in droves no matter what the weather or the international news. There's a festival on in the suburb of Skerries this coming weekend which looks like a lot of fun. I may not be able to go because I'm working hard so's to take some time off when my friend Vicki gets here in October, but it looks like a good one!

I guess that's it from me today, because I'm off to work in the restaurant. I've graduated recently from doing the simplest jobs, including vegetable preparation, to actually making minestrone. Look at me! Last year, about all I could manage was opening a tin of soup; now I'm churning it out and selling it to customers who give every impression of enjoying it. That might not sound like such a big deal, but I'm very proud!

The sun is shining down on Dublin, and it suits it. As you'll know, the weather's notoriously volatile here. Personally, I like it, because the light changes so much throughout the day that the city can look very different, depending on whether it's sunny or cloudy, or whether the sun is shining in a clear sky or a foggy one. A lot of the buildings downtown are brick and when it's sunny the brick seems to soak in the light somehow. Maybe there's a scientific explanation for it... not sure.

Anyway, I'm excitedly planning for my friend's visit. She's not coming for a month, but I'm workign my a** off now so's to be able to take time off when she's over. She's bringing her daughter, too. That was an unexpected piece of news, because I was expecting the kid to be left with her grandma, but what the hey. I've found out that The Ark is running a number of shows as part of the October Theatre Festival so I think maybe I'll book tickets for some of them. I've been there before, as part of my babysitting job (now, alas, just an occasional thing), and my experience has been that the shows those guys put on might be simple enough for kids, but they're also good enough for adults to enjoy, too.

Anyway, that's the good bit of the kid coming. The only thing I'm disappointed about is that I was hoping to spend a day or two doing some hiking in the Dublin/Wicklow mountains before it gets too cold, and maybe that's not such an easy thing to do with a child. We'll see...