Éire go Brách - Part IX

The last two days have been pretty easy going. I did take a slightly extended walk yesterday to deliver my pilfered car key which also took me close to Croke Park, which is a stadium where a majority of Ireland's Gaelic games are played. The games consist mostly of football (similar to Australian Rules football) and hurling (similar to their football but with short hockey-like sticks). The stadium has a museum dedicated to the games of the Gaelic Athletic Association (GAA). Now I'm not exactly the most sports minded person. I couldn't get two shits about any of the popular sports back home, so I'd be lying if I said I was a fan of those here in Ireland. However, I was right there and it's a big part of Irish culture so I figured why not. The museum in split in two levels. The lower level is all about the history of sports in Ireland, in Celtic history, and to a lesser degree the world. This part I found quite interesting and it's extremely well produced and laid out. The upper floor is all about the modern teams, stars, winners and has several interactive exhibits to show off your complete inability to do anything remotely sporty. This part was not my favorite, but it did give some burly guy an excuse to show off his burliness to his date. For those particularly interested you can also take a tour of the stadium itself whenever there aren't games going on. I didn't take part in the tour cause...I don't really care.

I didn't have anything planned for the rest of the day so I spent some time hanging out in a cafe up the street from my room and then walked around the large square of streets where my hotel is located. The art museum I went to last week is right there on the square, and the Dublin Writer's Museum that I didn't make it to is there as well. Since I was right in front of it with nothing else to do I went in. The museum is in a very carefully restored Georgian house that was at one time the home of the Jameson Distillery owner. The Irish have an astounding number of world renowned writers (James Joyce, William Butler Yeats, Oscar Wilde, Samuel Beckett), as well as a horde of local legends that make up the lush writing history of the country. The ups and downs of Irish history - from peace, to riots, to civil war, to independence - are all mirrored in the history of Irish literature. In fact, many of Ireland's big historical events have been directly incited, or indirectly stoked by it's novels, poems, and plays. The museum made me realize just how little I've read, and how many great works I'm missing out on. The exhibit portion of the museum is actually rather small, being contained mostly in two rooms on the first floor, and then a gallery and small library on the 2nd floor. Although somewhat compact, it's got a wealth of information that has been conveniently put to audio on portable players for those who aren't big on reading placards or don't read English. The house is much bigger than just the exhibit, and I'm guessing during peak season there's more going in in some of the exhibition rooms that are on a higher floor (I went up there, but it was all closed). Despite it's size, I easily spent at least 2 hours there, completely oblivious to the amount of time had passed until I went into the small bookstore in the rear of the house and was told they were closing in 5 minutes. I definitely enjoyed it the most of all the museums I've been to (the Long Library at Trinity College was the prettiest, though). The rest of the day, though it was already dark by then, I spent eating, drinking Smithwicks at The Parnell, and lazily watching TV.

When I woke up today I was instantly sad. The moment I woke up I thought about the fact that it's my last day in Ireland. The weather seemed to be mirroring my mood. It was cold, windy, and rainy...it was like the cliche of the rainy funeral. I had thought about trying to squeeze in a trip down to the National Portrait Gallery or the National Museum of Ireland, but I just didn't feel like it. Instead I walked around a little, sat and people watched a little, had lunch in a small cafe, checked out some of the department stores (even though I'm not really a shopper), and even tried a different pub that I quite liked. I didn't do any intensive walking, I didn't try to retain any details of sites, I didn't bring my camera. I mostly just wandered, wanting my last day to be a good, easy going day. Now it's time to finish up the last bits of packing, figure out how I want to transport the few trinkets I picked, and try my best to get a decent night's sleep. My flight leaves at 1pm here, so I'll probably be leaving the hotel shortly after waking up and heading for the airport. It's been a good trip and I'm sad it's over.