Kimberly Emerson

DAY FIVE

First day in Dublin!  In some ways I was even more excited about coming here than I was about London, because even though my trip to London was a long time ago, I have been there before.  Ireland would be all new.

Not my photo, but you had to see how cute this place is.

This has to be one of the friendliest places in the world, and the Cliff Townhouse where I stayed fits right in.  It has something like nine rooms in it, staff that can’t wait to help you with whatever you need, and a lovely restaurant downstairs.  I had breakfast there this morning, unsure of whether this was included in my room rate or not.  The Ashburn hotel in London had a decent continental breakfast, but the Cliff Townhouse was a breed apart.  The host seated me and asked my preference of coffee or tea.  Along with my tea, he brought me a small fruit salad and yogurt and a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice.  “I’ll be back with the breads and pastries,” he said.  Yum, I thought.  Sure enough, he returned shortly with a silver three-tiered tea tray full of small pastries and pieces of brown Irish soda bread.  Despite being a sugar fiend, I have to say my favorite item was that bread.  Fresh, just a bit salty, and perfect with gobs of butter.  (I was on vacation.  Don’t judge me.)  Then he handed me a menu, so that I could pick my hot breakfast.  I am not kidding.  All that food was just the warm-up to the main event.  I figured it was only right to start my stay there with the Full Irish Breakfast.  It arrived quickly – two fried eggs, two large sausage links, three enormous pieces of bacon, grilled tomato, sauteed mushrooms and some mystery substance I think may have been liverwurst.  (I tried it.  Not my favorite.)  By the time I finished, I thought they might have to roll me out of the hotel.  In my defense, I left the mystery meat, tomato,   most of the mushrooms and (thank goodness) some of the breads and pastries on the table.  No bill, although I didn’t know whether it would show up in my total charges when my stay was done.  At that moment, I was too stuffed to care.

I started my adventures outside the hotel with St. Stephen’s Green, which was conveniently located right across the street from where I stayed.  Any place the Irish say “green,” a SoCal girl can read “park.”  This one was almost big enough to get lost in – a couple of city blocks’ worth, at least.  A memorial to the 19th century potato famine victims stands at one corner.  You see a lot of reminders of that tragedy here.  Starting in 1845, it lasted for six years, and by the time it was over, a million people had died.

The Famine Memorial. Demonstrating not just the look, but the pain of hunger, using nothing but metal.

According to the statistics I heard from guides here, Ireland had a population of 8.5 million people before the famine, and 4 million afterwards – 1 million people died, and 3.5 million emigrated to other countries, especially the United States and Australia.  (The statistics I find online say only 1 million emigrated, but they confirm that 1 million died.)  Ireland’s population today is only 6 million.  It’s never come back to pre-famine level.  Like Hurricane Katrina, only worse.  It’s hard to imagine.  I can understand why the Irish keep reminders around.  Not only does it pay tribute to the victims, but it makes life’s day-to-day trials seem unbelievably trivial by comparison.

While walking through the garden, I kept hearing the song “Away in a Manger” running through my head – the last stanza:

Bless all the dear children in thy tender care and take us to Heaven to live with thee there.

I hope that all the victims of that famine are now in a place where they have everything they could ever want.

Most of the rest the day I spent hopping on and off a double-decker tourist bus.  It was the most like a tourist I’ve ever felt in my life, but it was the best way to get to know a city that I was completely unfamiliar with.  I stopped at Trinity College to see the Books of Kells, a medieval illuminated manuscript saved by Irish monks from the Vikings and their slash-and-burn method of travel.  Beautiful, as were the other six or seven early Medieval manuscripts owned by the college.

Trinity College

The long room upstairs houses 200,000 books that date back as far as the 7th century.  For a bibliophile like myself, it was mind boggling.  The books are so old that they look like they must actually be paintings on the walls, until you see that the curators have put small white pieces of paper in them to act as bookmarks.  (I’m guessing.  I don’t actually know why they put those there.  Maybe it’s two of them leaving love notes for each other.  Maybe someone is correcting the grammar in the hopes that the author will rise from the grave in order to die again from shame.  It’s a mystery.)

The Guinness factory. For beer and ale fans, this is the mothership.

Having eaten that huge breakfast, you’d think I’d have skipped lunch, but the seafood chowder and scone were calling my name.  After lunch, I hopped back on the bus and went to the Guinness factory.  Three different people recommended this tour to me.  If you really love beer, it’s probably amazing, but since I don’t, it wasn’t.  Especially at over $20.00 to get in.  I expected to hear something about the Guinness family, since every third thing in Dublin has a “donated by So-and-So Guinness” plaque next to it, but no.  Just beer.  Excuse me, ale.  Sort of.  There were a lot of finer points that I missed.

Arthur Guinness, the man who started it all.

Somewhere right now my brothers are laughing at my naïveté, while simultaneously cursing the rotten fates that had me drinking Guinness in a sky bar instead of them.  (I managed about four sips before giving up.)

Tired today.  I think the past three days of five-mile walks finally caught up with me.  Well, that and the cold.  Dublin is colder than London.  I didn’t expect that.  Maybe the different is that Dublin doesn’t have an underground train serving as a subterranean heater.  I came home from touring and took a hot bath.  (Seriously hot.  The hotel’s water heater must be set at 150°F.)

View from Guinness’ paradoxically named Gravity Bar. Almost worth the ticket price all by itself.

Since I didn’t have the energy to walk far, I had dinner at the French restaurant next door.  Well, sort of next door.  You walk out of the hotel to the sidewalk, and immediately to your right are steps going down to a basement restaurant called La Mère Zou.  I can’t find a good translation of that.  “La mère” means the mother, and “zou” appears to be a slang term meaning “off you go.”  How those relate is anyone’s guess.  “Go with your mother,” maybe?  [Update: Consultation with an actual speaker of French tells me that the best translation would be “Mother Zou.”]  Aside of the quirky name, the place is perfect.  They forgave me for not being a wine person, the root vegetable salad was tangy and the chicken so tender I almost didn’t need a knife, and the hostess’ recommendation of the pumpkin cheesecake with salted caramel ice cream was spot on.  That ice cream was like eating velvet – except that that would be disgusting, and this was exquisite.  But it made me pay attention to the texture of my food in a way I  never had before.

Back to my hotel room to hear a concert outside my window, but fortunately it finished by 10:30.  Must sleep.

Feeling so, so very blessed right now.

Tomorrow: touring the Irish countryside and hoping the sheep don’t attack.

• Kimberly’s Can’t Miss Moments:

The Cliff Townhouse:  A small hotel with a staff intent on taking care of you.  Both still and sparkling water left to greet you in your room.  The duvet is so soft you’ll never want to leave it, but pry yourself out bed in time for breakfast.  With how much they feed you, that meal could very possibly carry you through the rest of the day.

Trinity College and the Book of Kells:  Famous and rightly so.  The book is exquisite, and it’s just one of the library’s many treasures.  There will be a line, but don’t worry, it moves fast.

La Mère Zou:  Trot down the stairs and prepare yourself to be pampered.  For a fixed price, you get to choose from four or five different options for a starter, main course and dessert.  If the pumpkin cheesecake is not on the menu, cry a little, and then ask your server for a recommendation.  Follow their advice to the letter.

Kimberly has never eaten this much in one day in her entire life.  

Tags: Arthur Guinness, Away in a Manger, Book of Kells, Cliff Townhouse, Dublin, Famine Memorial, Full Irish Breakfast, Guinness, Ireland, Irish Potato Famine, La Mere Zou, St. Stephen's Green, Trinity College