Where the Streets Have No Name

Okay, the streets have names, but it takes awhile to find them, and if you walk far enough on one of these winding streets, it turns into something else, so getting street based directions is pretty useless. Fortunately, I followed my sense off direction for the most part today, and it didn't fail. But then, we meandered more than setting a goal of getting from one specific place to another.

I got up rather late in the morning, had a full Irish breakfast (still don't know what those round flat things were that I ate, but I liked them), then I headed out for a short walk before coming back to the hotel to wait for my sister. I happened across a woman selling flowers who was quite happy to sell me some yellow miniature carnations and some purple statis for 5 Euro. As I walked back to the hotel, I saw Pam getting out of the cab. It was a little surreal seeing her here, standing in front of this old hotel on this tiny street. She was full of energy and happy, and I was thrilled to hug her.

I thought she would like the Queen of Tarts, so we headed back there for lunch, and we found ourselves sitting next to a very nice woman who happily made suggestions for what we might do and see and who explained a bit about tipping wait staff here, which still has me a bit uneasy. It's nice, it seems, but it is not expected in the way it is in the US, where servers earn little if anything more than their tips. I feel bad if I don't tip, and I feel foolish if I tip as I do in the US, so I'm sticking with my usual motto: just pay and don't think about it.

Pam though the area around the Liffey was pretty cool (me too) so we hung out there for awhile, and I made her take my photo with the giant statue of Daniel O'Connell. Very touristy, but, shit, I'm a tourist. The Liffey really is nice; I expected a stinky river flowing through town, as the Chicago is in many places it, but the Liffey is really nice, and I like saying "Liffy."



After a nap, we met Al for dinner, and he was with an ISU alum, John Whipple, whom I remembered from about 10-12 years ago. Very nice guy. He took us by the Irish FIlm Institute and I wish I could have stayed in the cafe or looked at some DVDs in the shop. The latest Almodovar film is playing, as is a restored version of Days of Heaven. I'm realizing now I made a mistake in not planning more time in Dublin. It takes a couple of days to deal with the jet lag and just being able to find your hotel. There are sites to be seen (still haven't walked across Trinity's campus, though I've been all around it), but the real pleasure is in finding a place like the IFI cafe, and just hanging out in it for an afternoon--no rush, no gotta get to, just coffee and people watching, and listening to the voices around you.


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Location:Dame Ct,Dublin,Ireland