Leprechauns, Vikings, and People who Aren't From Barcelona: A Review of the Trip Thus Far

So, fellow travelers, I've tried five or six times to begin a blog post about my adventure so far that is detailed enough to keep you informed but short enough to not be considered a novel... and I can't. I can't do it. My thoughts are racing from all I've seen, and my feet (and legs, and back) are aching from all the places they have carried me, and there is just no way I can present to you, in narrative form, a condensed version of our time here.

So, in lieu of that, here are some statistics of our journey.

Country count thus far: Three. Sean and I landed in England on Thursday afternoon and hopped between London and Oxford before settling down for the night in London, not far from Baker Street. Then we rose early and walked to the London Euston station, where we boarded a train to the port town of Holyhead, in Wales. The only thing I knew about Holyhead before I went was that it was home to the only all-women's Quidditch team, the Holyhead Harpies (J.K. Rowling told me so, and she doesn't lie). Once we got there, though, we found it to be a very pretty little place, and had the chance to explore it a bit after we missed our first ferry to Dublin and had to wait two hours for another one. Then, one ferry ride and a cab later, we checked into our hostel on the Emerald Isle.

Museums: Four. Today we visited the National Gallery, where we saw lots of art, and the National Museum of archeology, where we saw lots of truly fascinating relics: early church trappings from the influence of the English, weapons and objects of war during the Viking period, cooking utensils and pagan carvings going even farther back than that. They actually had displayed some of the bodies that had been found preserved in the peat bogs, and, while somewhat macabre, it was fascinating to read the stories surrounding them. And yesterday we visited the Chester Beatty library for its beautiful book and manuscript collection, and—just for kicks—the National Leprechaun Museum. And if you want my honest opinion, that last one was my favorite.

Churches: Three. We got to see St. Patrick's Cathedral yesterday, and it's honestly incredible. I've seen a fair few cathedrals—I just got back from Armenia and Georgia, where you can't go anywhere without seeing two or three—but this one struck me as very unique. I've always found cathedrals to be buildings rather full of themselves: gilded and ornate, puffing themselves up to make them seem more important. St. Patrick's is very different, in that instead of insisting you to focus inward on the cathedral itself, it directs your focus outward: on God, on His servants, on the people He wants to serve. The whole place is full of the tombs of civil servants, including Jonathan Swift, who fought fiercely to help Ireland's poor and mentally handicapped with his biting pen and his political maneuvering. And then, of course, the whole place is shadowed by the memory of St. Patrick himself, who—from what I read of him on the displays inside—was incredibly humble, hardworking, and caring. Reading his quotes gave me a sense of a real servant who was devoted to God and God's love for people. The cathedral is beautiful, yes—inside and out, from every angle—but it's also thought-provoking and simultaneously refreshing and challenging for your spirit. One of the memorials inside bears an epitaph declaring its subject to have “exhibited in a useful and devoted life the practical influence of the truth he preached.” I can't think of anything I would rather have carved on my tombstone.

Miles Covered: I have no freaking idea, but I am SORE. We've walked literally everywhere we've gone, and we've covered about a third of the city, no joke. Temple Bar, the quay by the river, St. Stephen's Green (which is the most gorgeous park I have EVER seen), Merrion Square, and Trinity College—and that's not all, folks.

Favorite food: The chips we bought from Leo Burdock's famous fish and chips shop in the medieval area of Dublin. Oh my word. We sat and ate them outside Christchurch Cathedral, feeling like quintessential Dubliners (we're obvious frauds, but so it goes), and I thought I'd bitten into spud-themed heaven. I've discovered that I don't like cod very much, but the Irish—as one would expect—can do absolute wonders with the potato.

The Place: Is amazing. Point blank. And there is so much to see, for whatever kind of nerd you are: literary, historical, medieval, musical. I can tell you from the literary aspect, it's bursting. We've seen the Oscar Wilde memorial and his birthplace, and Thomas Moore's statue, and lots of statues of authors and poets of whom I've never heard, but Dublin sure is proud of them. And James Joyce is everywhere. He has a statue just off O'Connell Street, but that's just the beginning. If you look down as you walk, you'll find little placards sunk into the pavement featuring quotes from his novel, Ulysses, which takes place over the course of one day in Dublin, a date the Dubliners commemorate by dressing up as characters from the book's era and talking in antiquated accents (as if their accents weren't awesome enough already).

The People: Are some of the friendliest I've met in my travels, which was a wonderful surprise. Without fail, if we stand looking at our map for longer than fifteen seconds, someone will come up and ask us what we're looking for and will point us in the right direction. They're helpful, hospitable, and hilarious—they're incredibly open and up-front about joking with strangers (or maybe Sean and I just give off a vibe that we're fun to poke fun at?). We approached one guy for advice on a good fish and chips place, and he responded, “I just came from Barcelona; I know nothing.” After we apologized and thanked him for his time, skeptical but unwilling to be rude, he called us out on it: “Really, with an accent like that, how could I be from Barcelona?” It's a lot of fun. They're a proud people, the Irish, and they know where they've come from, but they've been very welcoming, and I like that.

I don't suppose you can stand to read much more, even though I'm positively bursting to tell you every minute detail. So I'll cut myself off here, and say farewell for now. Next on the docket: the interior of Ireland, the countryside, and the Newgrange burial grounds! Coming soon to a blog near you! (Bear with me; I'm still figuring out how to end these posts gracefully.)