Dublin City

In the 1980’s I spent a good portion of a summer studying and researching in Dublin. A geography professor from the University of Northern Colorado, Kevin C. Kearns, was a prolific writer of all that was Irish. An opportunity to research craftsmen of Dublin seemed too good for an undergrad to pass up. Now over 20 years later I return for a weekend visit. Friends Dennis and Kathleen Deery from Wisconsin are living in the Smithfield neighbourhood, where I interviewed and photographed ferriers so long ago. Surprisingly Smithfield still holds the monthly horse fair. Funny how circles complete themselves.

Kathleen and Dennis are defining their expat lifestyle in this metropolis. Compared to year one in the lovely seaside village of Tramore, Dublin is a shift. Their urban dwelling is a 500 square foot flat that housed three of us in a cozy sort of way. I admire their adaptability and appreciate their friendship.

We explored much that I remembered some was familiar some was not. Bewley’s café looks to be in the same location and the Shelbourne Hotel bordering St. Stephen’s Green was lovely on this warm Friday morning. Today Dublin is a thriving city with crane tops denoting economic growth. Double the size of Edinburgh, Dublin is filled with an energy that is vastly different from the incessant panhandling I remember. There is an energy that was palpable Friday evening when we strolled close to the River Liffey in hopes of a good dinner. A bowl of Japanese buckwheat noodles was the perfect way to bring closure to my Friday evening. Saturday afternoon Dennis and I went to Howth and hiked around a bit while Kathleen prepared yummy tid bits for a party that evening. I was warmly welcomed into Alan & Bre’s lovely refurbished Georgian home.

Although I am appreciative of the rapid nature of air travel, I felt challenged this morning navigating the Ryanair ticket counter. I was asked to step out of line only to get into another and pay the UK departure tax, then back into the original line to obtain my boarding pass. She said it was fine to come to the “top of the que” once I obtained my receipt. Even with Ryanair permission, I felt odd walking to the head of the line. Fortunately there was a young guy in the front that understood and graciously let me go ahead. Three busses, one train, and one plane are all that it took to make the trek back to Dalkeith today. Now tucked into Room #116, I am happy to lounge a bit, anticipating mid-term examinations and John’s arrival on Friday.