Dublin When It Sizzles

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Think Torontonians go a bit nuts when summer finally settles in? Nothing compared to Dublin, where the arrival of usual warmth (about 27C) and a cloudless blue sky and sunshine is as rare as a field of four-leaf clovers. So Dubliners are taking full advantage. Cafes are jammed, the pedestrian shopping areas like Henry St. are busy and pubs with "yards" are doing a brisk business. Along Henry St., strawberry sellers entice shoppers by hollering "straaaaw-burries!" The ripe berries are sold from folded-down vintage prams. Clever. The early part of the day was for indoor pursuits, including the Book of Kells at Trinity College. The books were inspiring (ah, for the good old days when being a scribe was considered an honourable craft instead of a akin to being a ticket-taker at the Haunted Mansion or guest services co-ordinator on the Titanic). But I was enthralled with the long hall library - like something out of Harry Potter. Row after row of volumes in this vaulted hall that had the most wonderful smell of old books. I also had to make a stop to view the Proclamation of The Republic signed at the Easter Rising by her granny's cousin, a fellow named Plunkett. Saw it, Mo, and thought of you. This explains your independent spirit.
Next stop was the Irish Writers' Museum, which inspired me and then a sunny half hour in Parnell just opposite.
I took a long wander off the tourist routes today and saw some of the city beyond the centre and touristy areas, neighbourhoods where brown and Asian people have settled. Found a fruit and veggie market and explored the area where the old horse market once stood. Then over to St. Patrick's Cathedral where kids were squeezing every last bit out of the sunshine.
I have one more day in Ireland and since I feel I've seen a good deal of Dublin, I'm taking a 7 ayem train to Cork. It's where my grandfather was born and although I won't see his birthplace of Fermoy, it will give me a sense of where he came from. And I will see Cobh, the port where I believe he left Ireland. Blarney Castle is also on the tour, but as you are all no doubt snorting in unison, the Blarney Stone is about the last thing in the world this kid needs to kiss. I hear and agree. Especially since I recently read the stone is the most germ-laden tourist stop in the world, a fact our guide Emily amplified when she told us local lads like to make a stop at the stone after the pub closes to, ahm, water it. "Isn't the gate closed?" I ask. "That only adds to the allure," Emily replied.
I'm off for a drink at Bono's hotel and then maybe a curry. I have a hankering for Indian.

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Photos

socks off!
This little guy plunked down in St. Patrick's Park and tore off his shoes and socks

Yard at the Brazen Head
One of Dublin's oldest pubs - and a perfect place for a cider on a hot day - so I did.

address for my dad
Duck Lane