Advertisement
Published: October 31st 2007
Edit Blog Post
So after a quick lunch, I headed towards Edinburgh Castle only to realize... I didn't feel like going to Edinburgh Castle. Fortunately, located behind it in the old army barracks was the Chester Beatty Library, which had the added attraction of being
free. Plus, when I walked in, the guard told me the best thing I'd heard all weekend - that I wasn't allowed to take my backpack in and would be required to put it in a free secure locker. My liberated shoulder muscles wanted to cause my arms to fling themselves around him in gratitude... but I restrained myself somehow.
So who was Chester Beatty? I started by watching the documentary that was playing on loop. Beatty's early days were modest, but he soon made a fortune in the mining industry. Though an American, he loved Ireland and moved there after he retired, eventually becoming Ireland's first ever honorary citizen. In the meantime, he spent his money on ancient religious texts. When he passed away, he left it all to the people of Ireland.
The treasure of the library is the world's oldest copy of St. Paul's letter to the Romans (dated 180 A.D.). However, it also
houses beautifully illuminated Korans, ancient Hebrew Torahs, Buddhist scrolls, paintings of whirling dervishes, etc. Most of the items are Christian or Islamic, though. Old texts always make me catch my breath and gaze on them in wonder, but these were beautiful to boot. Since I wasn't allowed to take pictures, I recommend going to the
official website.
I hefted my backpack once again and headed back to the Georgian era. My destination was Merrion Square, an inviting tree-filled park surrounded on all four sides with Georgian architecture, fronted by brightly painted doors that just beg to have their pictures taken. In one corner of the park is a smirking and lounging statue of the playwright Oscar Wilde, surrounded by some of his witter quotes. (I've always enjoyed, "Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much.")
One of the houses on this square has been converted into a museum to show how the middle class lived during the Georgian period (when Georges I, II, III, and IV were Kings of England, 1714-1830). It still seemed pretty posh to me. However, I love old houses that set up to be realistic to the period... especially the servants' areas. We started
In the Chester Beatty Library
They merged a couple old army barracks and built a roof over the courtyard between them. I loved it. in the kitchen and larder in the basement, which were next to the housekeeper's. Moving up a flight, we found the front parlor, which didn't really have any furniture, because the style was to take turns around the drawing room to show off your fancy clothing to the people in the room with you and to the people on the street below. Up another set of stairs (this was a very narrow row house) and you got to the Master Bedroom, where they tended to sleep sitting up (so as to not mess up the hair) under a canopied bed (to keep the rats from dropping on you from the ceiling rafters. As we went upstairs, the crown molding and carpeting ended; why spend money on areas your guests will never see? Finally, the children and governess got stuck way at the top. I always wonder if I could have lived like that... (or like whatever period house I'm in). Again, no pictures allowed, so try out the
virtual tour.
As I trodded back towards town, it started raining, and my umbrella decided not to open anymore. So I got soaked as I took a turn up the pedestrian-only and
Oscar Wilde
What a rakish gent. shop-lined Grafton Street. A couple of the standard junky souvenir shops actually drew my attention, and I got a great sheep-and-clover-covered tote bag that has been designated official keeper of my knitting. I also saw the famous statue of Molly Malone, "the tart with the cart." Realizing my feet and shoulders had had enough, taking into account that I was wet from the rain and that my rental car was racking up quite a parking fee, I decided it was time to move out. I got a few more pictures of the River Liffey, which runs through Dublin, and of an inexplicable 5 million euro steel spike called the Millenium Spire (or the Stiletto in the Ghetto... and other ruder names that I won't repeat here). My sleeping quarters were once again a college dorm - a bed, a desk, a shower, convenient, and cheap. I've stayed in them in Dublin, Edinburgh, and London... but I fear it's not going to happen in the last remaining U.K. capital - Cardiff is just too close to Cheltenham.
After a fair night's sleep, I flew back to Bristol, England, where they neglected to even check my passport. Guess they're not worrying
A Gnarly Tree
Pun intended. In Merrion Square Park. about illegal immigrants from Ireland.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.139s; Tpl: 0.022s; cc: 13; qc: 27; dbt: 0.0293s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb