This is the last post from Dublin. It includes pictures of what I consider oddities. The Spire of Dublin is almost 400 feet tall and replaces the Nelson column that was blown up in the 1960s. To me any structure that tall without an antenna or flag is an oddity. Others include James Joyce selling free wi-fi, a literary bar and bookie joint, a 100 … Continue reading Dublin Oddities
I love rivers. We walked along and across the Liffey, took a boat tour as the tide was coming in, which meant the boat could not get under the bridge so they had to let us off downstream, and walked along the canals that feed into the river. The Convention Center where Radio Days took place was along the river. The Samuel Beckett Bridge, formed … Continue reading Life in the Liffey, Dublin
In an earlier post I said Dublin was a city of stories more than sights. But there are sights to see. Here are some of them I didn’t mention in my letter, like Dublin Castle, the seat of British power in Dublin before independence, Christ Church Cathedral, one of two Anglican cathedrals in Dublin, St. Stephen’s Green, The Oscar Wilde memorial in Merrion Square, some … Continue reading Dublin Sights
My sister-in-law accused me of taking pictures of Irish knockers. Well, yes, they are in the picture, but that wasn’t the point. Gerogian buildings, with their colored doors, line Baggot St., Stephens Green and Merrion Square in Dublin. Georgian townhouse windows get smaller as they go up to their three stories to give them the illusion of greater height. The buildings started as private townhouses … Continue reading Dublin’s Georgian Doors.
Dublin is not about sightseeing– although there are sights to see. It is about stories. You can find stories everywhere. Often stories are wrapped in songs. As part of the “media package” that came from the radio conference we got free passes to the “hop on hop off” busses. We soon learned to get on the busses labeled “live commentary.” The recorded commentary, on 6 … Continue reading Dublin, 2014
The taxi driver from Clontarf to the airport offered to take me a different route, around Dublin Bay, along the coast pass the fishing village of Howth and then into the airport. “It’s more miles but with school getting out it now may be less time. At Howth he said “You’ll be flying right over that when you take off.” (We did.) I think he … Continue reading Sometimes flying becomes the theatre of the absurd.
How could it have been better? Radio Days Europe are over. These three days are working themselves into being one of those annual celebrations that mark my calendar, in a way like the Winnipeg Folk Festival or the Sitka Festival. It’s a celebration of many things I hold close; radio, free press, good journalism, storytelling, meeting friends and, this year, Ireland. A celebration it was, … Continue reading Radio Days Europe, Dublin, 2014
St. Patrick’s Day Dublin, Ireland, St. Patrick’s Day Parade. In a way it reminds me of the May Day Parade in Minneapolis presented by the Heart of the Beast Puppet Theater. Continue reading A Colorful and Happy St. Patrick’s Day Parade in Dublin
“In 1014 Brian Boru defeated the Danes at Clontarf near Dublin.” That is what my Grandfather learned in school and it is what he taught me. This year the St. Patrick’s Day Parade in Dublin looked back into history as 10 performing troupes of players reenacted legends and events. The theme was “Let’s Make History!” One, a group called SPRAOI did Clontarf, a Thousand Years On. … Continue reading St. Patrick’s Day Parade and the Battle of Clontarf, or Here Come the Vikings!
The hats were the same ones I saw at the St. Patrick’s Day Parade in New York 9 years ago but instead of obnoxiously drunk teenagers these were mostly well mannered young people enjoying the Sunday of Dublin’s St. Patrick’s Festival. There were hats, face painting, performances, puppet shows, Brian Boru’s Bouncy Castle, and a St. Patrick’s samba line. Many revelers were wearing “Who’s you … Continue reading Faces of St. Patrick (Reflections on my Grandfather.)
Tomorrow is St. Patrick’s Day. My Irish grandfather always told me it was no use going to Ireland on St. Pat’s. All the good bands were in New York, Boston or Chicago. The Dubliners had their own annual gig in St. Paul and the Irish Rovers were usually in Vancouver or Toronto. The Clancy Brothers were always in New York, usually several places in a … Continue reading Dublin Goes Green (It’s the eve of St. Patrick’s Day.)
In the summer of 1993 Suzi and I took my mother to Ireland to celebrate her 80th birthday. Her father was born, raised, and ran away to sea from Greencastle in Donegal; at the mouth of Lough Foyle, the choke point leading to the port of Londonderry. Her actual birthday was in September and on her birthday I sent her a letter recounting some … Continue reading Greencastle, Ireland (the old home place.)