Day 3 - An Easter Parade

We started the day with a hearty breakfast before chorch (well maybe not the chorch bit) and. Set off for the city. We heard that an Easter Parade was planned for O'Connell Street. I immediately thought of mardi gras floats and Easter bonnets but it was an altogether more solemn matter - the commemoration of the 1916 Easter uprising which took place on the very spot in front of the post office. The ceremony was similar to our Anzac Day but was dedicated to the young freedom fighters who were all executed for their troubles but are now regarded as founding fathers.

The Garda were a very strong presence with barricades and some heavy duty military support. The public were kept well back from the ceremony and you had to go through a bag search to get in. It is a salutory reminder of the past troubles and perhaps some still simmering issues. I notice that the shops throuhout the city all have heavy roller shutters which cover thevwindows at night - a legacy of past unrest that we would never see at home.

We went exploring again, using the green bus and took in all the georgian splendour. Here's me with Molly Malone, aka 'the tart with the cart'. She's over near Grafton Street where all the posh shops are.



And here, lounging on his rock in Merrion Square, is Oscar. Dublin is very proud of its writers and there are statues, bridges and all sorts of mentions of them. Jonathon Swift was dean of St Patrick's Cathedral and they pointed out the spot where James Joyce met Norah Barnacle.



Meanwhile, Ireland's economy is clearly in the toilet. We noticed quite a few moribund building sites. The papers this morning are full of government legislation that would force mortgage defaulters into an income management system that would contol the way they spend their remaining funds - they could only buy 'healthy' food, would have to get rid of their cars if they live in a city with public transport. And if working women are paying too much for childcare they could be made to give up their jobs and stay home with the kids. The commentators are describing it as stalinist. The banks are being facilitated to get their pound of flesh despite their behaviour in the past!

We are surprised at how relatively cheap things seem to be. We had the full monty breakfast at the hotel this morning for 15 euros. It would be more than twice that at home.

Oh, and did I mention it was 4 degrees here today. All day. The daffs are out. Just. The trees still have no leaves but daylight saving has started.

Sent from my iPad

Day 2 - Let's explore!

We decided to check out the restaurant in the hotel and it turned out very good. It being Good Friday, I stuck with fish,which came with enough chips for a football team. But Warwick decided to laugh danger in the face and have chicken because it came with colcannon. He can cross that off his bucket list now. It was quite nice but a little salty, he says. I got the impression that most people were sticking to fish but no one threatened him with perdition. They had proper young chefs who apparently use fresh local ingredients. They are doing well, we think.

We took the green bus for a tour of the city and got a good sense of the city proper. It's very Georgian and the buildings are made of a light grey stone. The river is picturesque. They seem to have relegated all the modern buildings to the edge of the city and there are no real high rise buildings. We'll go and find some of the museums tomorrow. So many of the main landmarks are named for young rebels who got themselves killed at awfully young ages in the risings. There are lots of statues of famous people, including Oscar Wilde, sitting in the park outside his old house.

This morning we were glad that at the very last moment we had decided to bring our woollen coats and gloves. Though bright and clear, the temperature would be about 3 degrees if we are lucky. So I went looking for a woollen hat or scarf. Not a chance! Despite everyone being rugged up like the Michelin man, the shops are all geared up for summer. Want a bikini for your holiday in Portugal? Step this way, no problem at all. Not a woolly to be seen.

Famished,we found Pacino's in the city where 10 euros got us a fine breakfast of egg and sausage for Warwick and croissant for me with lots of scalding hot tea. Just perfect!

This afternoon we picked up our hire car which turned out to be a black diesel VW Polo - quite sporty. The tom-tom was pressed into action and we soon worked out that the taxi driver who brought us here yesterday must have been 'taking the scenic route' (he did point out Bram Stoker's house and the estate where The Commitments was made)as the drive from the airpot was only a matter of minutes.

I do wish I could sort out the photo issue with this blog.I'll have to think of something.

Day1- we arrive

Well we left Sydney at 9:45 pm on Thursday night and endured the 14 hour flight stuffed with another 400 or so souls, including restless babies,who were quite good initially, but eventually resorted to continuous high pitched squeals. It was quite miserable queuing for toilets and crappy food and trying to sleep sitting up while the smug, lucky bastards in business would have been cosseted in their pods. Then we had a supposed two hour break in Dubai before the next 7 hour flight, which it turned out was delayed an hour, then more of the same only the seats were even smaller and closer together. Next time we'll be breaking the journey as we did in Singapore.

But we have arrived at our 1st hotel in Dublin, the Croke Park, which is next to the main rugby stadium.And we've already hit the jackpot - Our very own trouser press! Have taken a photo but haven't quite mastered getting photos into the blog yet. My iPad already seems to have outdated software.

So far Dublin is grey. Only 1 degree on arrival. But besides that it seems to be pebbledash city. Not quite what we were expecting.And it is Good Friday, which means totally dry today, although if we want a drink we will have to order a 'substantial' meal in the restaurant. The telly is giving us a concert of a churchy type of young, chubby, red-haired vaguely Neil Finn looking singer doing all the uplifting standards. You Raise Me Up, Bridge over Troubled water, Danny boy. You get my drift. Stations of the Cross, anyone?

But we will explore tomorrow. Warwick has done a reccie and we are quite close to the city proper. For now though, a shower was a welcome relief and we're in for an early night.