I woke up and strolled down for my eggs. I knew I should miss that mysteriously tasty toast underneath.
I went directly to the beach, not wanting to miss any No. 3 bus which may not make all the stops on the route because of the holiday. I could not resist going far along the sand towards the far-off water's edge. I wish I knew the purpose of the beach towers (are they all called Martello? I could not be sure.) and why they seem to be all along the coast of Dublin and surrounding towns. I found a good curly shell, a shell-shell, and a nice bit of rock, and slipped them all into my purse.
When I say I went on the beach itself I mean I walked along where the water rages higher than my head at a rare high tide. But often the tide is far out, and it is not unusual to not be able to see water at all. If you have seen the movie "The Van" (third in the trilogy which began with "The Committments" and continued with "The Snapper") at the end they take the van out to the sea and the tide covers it. This is more or less where I was at Sandymount, although I was to the south of the smokestacks (wonder what those were for too - maybe people will read all my queries and write in) and I think the scenes in the movie were to the north. There is a sign cautioning against going more than a short bit out, though, for the sea is mighty and the tide can come in suddenly, or so it is said.
I waited for the bus for a good while, then became impatient and walked down to Sandymount Green. Another woman waited with me there after I had done my exploring (what? all this time a SPAR was right down the road?!) and bemoaned to me the rising crime, in the form of pickpockets. She specifically shook her head at no longer feeling comfortable leaving her purse in the pew when she went into the confessional. I agree that stealing in a church is pretty low, but I didn't tell her that I don't even leave my purse in the grocery cart when I lean over to get soup off the bottom shelf.
The No. 3 came about then and before I knew it I was at O'Connell. The Silent Village
The streets were pleasantly empty. I went to the Pro-Cathedral but again got no pictures for Mass was about to begin.
I grabbed the No. 123 to John's Lane after admiring Clery's animated display and the holiday music they had piped out onto the amazingly nearly vacant street. I wondered if it played at night.
I didn't do anything at John's Lane but have a look around. I walked east towards Temple Bar and stopped at Saint Audoen's. Yes, I had been right when I passed it before, this was the older version of the church, a thousand years old or so I believe. What led me there was a tuxedo cat was chasing birds who kept shying from me and eventually ran away. I admired the view and was surprised to find a time capsule with the size and look of a water heater tucked behind a grate in a stone enclosure. The church itself was not open to the public but the green was very nice, as was the view. Just behind it is the newer and Catholic Saint Audoen's, which frankly did not look very used either.
I kept walking east and this time went to sit behind Christ Church Cathedral where I switched to black and white film. As I walked around I had a hard time finding many pubs open, despite hearing that this was a day traditionally spent with friends in pubs, and although it seemed like pubs surrounded me when I first ventured into the area almost two weeks before, I couldn't really find enough to photograph to satisfy myself that I was making a 'collection.' A fellow was passing out cards urging the stragglers he found to come hear some live music late that afternoon, so I suppose I was running around a bit early for the crowds.
In obvious testimony to my feet feeling much better, I went further south to Grafton Street and the first Burger King on the street was open so I went in and ordered a Veggie Whopper (When will the U.S. really catch up with their international counterpart's vegetarian options? Sniffle.), onion rings, and large Sprite. No refills here either. I wanted fries but couldn't find them on the menu (yes, I knew not to look for 'fries') until it was too late. I went upstairs to eat with a view of the still, decorated streets and my feet decided that was their cue to begin complaining.
An employee wandered, looking for things he could wipe down. The whole city was so quiet.
Sandymount
I crutched up to O'Connell for the No. 3 and got off at Sandymount Green. The goings-on the woman at Marsh Library had mentioned were in the process of preparation, and while I saw costumes and a portable stage from Guinness, I'm not sure exactly what they were up to. Inside the SPAR, which did not have much compared to Sandycove, everyone waited patiently while a woman argued with the cashier. Something about the bread not being fresh, I think, but again no longer remember. It was more of a difference of opinion than an argument, I guess, as no one was upset but no one was going to give up their ground either.
I began walking back to the guesthouse and missed the turn (Ireland is the first place where I was not a brilliant navigator, but the results always brought me to something better than I planned) and ended up at the beach again. This time there were lots of people having a walk with dogs and roller-blading children. It was easy to guess what those kids got for their Christmas! A big black Labrador without an obvious owner walked unsteadily to me and laid down at my feet. After that I started getting nods of approval for having such a handsome dog, and he really did seem to have adopted me. He hung on my every word when I talked to him, gleefully took his pettings, and was content to stare at the sea when I did. I tried taking photos of him but none came out. When I stood to finish my walk home he gave me one of those dog-grins and galloped away without a look back for me. Related Irish Vocabulary
- shell - sliogán
- tide - taoide
- soup - súp
- vacant - folamh
- view - amharc
- dog - madra
Comments