My trip to Ireland: part 7

The last post only covered the first day I spent in Dublin and as you perhaps noticed: I took it all in. So now I will try to give you a view of the rest of my stay in Dublin. On the other hand: I think we must take one day at the time, in order not to scare you too much :p
So here comes the recollection of the 24th July...
BEWARE!

Dublin is the kind of city that grows on you, it surprises you at every turn. This is a city who are balancing through life on a very fine line, between history and modernity, old and new. Sometimes one can wonder if it will fall, and fail its magic trick. But so far hasn't Dublins soul been up for auction, and I cross my fingers that it never will be either.
So how did I experience Dublin the next couple of days after the shock had settled? There was so much to see and I had fairly limited time.
After a good nights sleep I was so ready to explore the city. First on my list: get some proper insoles, because I knew we were going to cover pretty much ground by just walking, and it was no point in getting any blisters if I could avoid it. So while I was in the shoe-shop, Steven ran over to the Tourist Office to fix our tickets for our trip to Glendalough some days later. We were supposed to be meeting a pen-pal of mine; Siân by the GPO, and I got a chance to look closer at the building and feel the columns that still has some bullet holes in them after the Easter Rising.
Let me tell you a little bit about Siân: she is just the most loving, and wonderful girl you can imagine, and we hit it off right away. It was like she could read my mind, and she understood. She would join us for the day, and since we were at the GPO, we decided to start there with checking out the inside.

I want a post-office like this!

It is great that they still use it as a post-office and not turning it into a museum, where the history will get strangled.
We made our way over O'Connell bridge in search for a pub (for our defence: we were looking for coffee), and on our way we passed a secondhand bookshop. And I just had to look...
So I dragged both Steven and Siân with me into the bookshop, and this is what we saw:

HEAVEN

They had books about EVERYTHING! And the section with Irish history and fiction made my head spin. This was a true dreamplace for a bibliophile like me, and I was very reluctant to leave it, especially the children's corner where they had all the books I had read when I grew up; Treasure Island, The Jungle Book and Robin Hood. Our next stop would be a pub in St Anne's Street called Kehoe's. It was still morning, and we had the pub to ourselves. We found a cosy corner, got our coffee and started planning what to do the rest of the day.

Coffee-time

We decided to make our way to Merrion Square and Archbishop Ryan Park were we hopefully would find some statues and take our time enjoying the place. And indeed we did; because this park is the home of Dublins perhaps funniest statue: Oscar Wilde.

The Quare in the Square

Seriously, who cannot smile when they see this one? Right beside it was a small black pillar with quotes by him carved into the stone and colored white to contrast the black. And there was one quote that resounded in my heart:

We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars

The reason for this was a doomed fancy 6 months ago...these words dragged me up from the gutter at the time, but I had tried to forget the guy for some time (long story), so it was weird to see them on print again.
Believe it or not: this little bibliophile hasn't read anything by Oscar Wilde ...yet.
Anyway, let's get on with the story.

After roaming aimlessly around in this small, but oh so charming park, we got fairly hungry, so off to Marks and Spencer in Grafton street. Siân and I got a sandwich each and some juice, while Steven chose to have his homemade lunch. It was around midday, and the sun was shining, so we decided to eat our lunch at St Stephens Green. There we met a bride and groom, looking for a nice place to take their wedding-pictures. It was so great to just enjoy every minute and not having to worry about a thing in the world.

Made me think of the story about the ugly duckling by H.C. Andersen

There are so many statues in St Stephens and the last time we were there, we hadn't found neither Wolfe Tone nor James Joyce. But if you look, you will find (eventually), so after some time we  spotted Mr Wolfe Tone over at the other side of the park. As we made our way over to him, we saw something else that attracted our attention. A memorial for all those who died during the famine, triggered by the devastating  potatoblight that struck Ireland 1845 and lasted to 1852. 1.1 million people died, and nearly 1.5 emigrated to a "better" future in Canada and USA.

Waiting to die

Once again did I face the history, the history that had troubled me for so long and had also been the core of my bachelor-thesis. Their destinies will never, and should never, be forgotten.

Wolfe Tone (1763-1798) is one of the leaders the Irish love to remember. I guess it has to do with his role in the 1798-rebellion. This rebellion could perhaps have been a success, but it initiated a line of (sadly) failing risings and rebellions;  Robert Emmet in 1803 (total and utterly failure), Young Irelanders in 1848 (that one ended in a cabbageditch in county Tipperary), The Fenians in 1867 and up to the Easter Rising (which maybe was somewhat successful in the long run....)
But all these failures shows us an astounding quality in the Irish people: They don't give up!

A grand leader / Tonehenge

So even if his rebellion didn't end that well (he died in prison before they could execute him...some say suicide, some say something else..), his ideas and dreams still inspire people. He believe that people could coexist no matter despite their religious loyalty. This was a man who would fight for humanity; both Catholics and protestants alike. He was perhaps a revolutionary, but over all: He was a man who fought for what he believed in!

"Christopher Columbus, as everyone knows, is honored by posterity because he was the last to discover America."

Another confession: I haven't read Ulysses (my brother is picking on my shoulder and tells me that he hasn't read it either...puh) I don't have anything against mr Joyce, but why has this book become so important? It is almost impossible to read! "Dubliners" on the other hand, is much more comprehensible...
But who am I to judge the literary pearls of this nation? Let us get on with the story...

So after we were finished in St Stephens Green, we made our way over to one of Dublin's most popular places (especially for tourists): Temple Bar
This is, let's be honest, a pub-district. And since it was to early for a pint for us, we headed for one of the bridges that's crossing Liffey.

All over Dublin can one see people with big posters advertising for stuff, and this guy seemed pretty tired, so he's taking a breather by the coolest box in Dublin. Can you see the man dressed like a sheep?

Four Courts

Now we were also looking for a place for a breather, and beneath the trees by the Four Courts, we stopped for a while so we could check the map and enjoy the view over Liffey. Well, we can debate the beauty of the scene, because a dirtier river haven't I seen in a very long time and I wouldn't advice anyone to take a swim in it...

Two great friends; Siân and Steven

(To Siân and Steven: I cannot say how thankful I am that you chose to get to know me. I'm forever grateful)

It was a hot day, and we were getting pretty thirsty at this point, so up O'Connell once more. And on our way we found: James Joyce (again), a street-artist and some musicians. Here you got them all:

He's never been more popular (as a statue)

The Autumn Girl

 

Ryan Sheridan and Artur Graczyk; what can I say? There was definitely something about their music that resonated in my mind, and it brought a smile to my face. It's energetic and laid-back at the same time; perfect for a Sunday morning. After I got home I have listened to their 8 track demo over and over again, and it is like Dublin itself; it sneaks up upon you and before you know it is it a part of you.

So with music in my head and a smile on my face, we searched for a place to rest our feet and plan our next move. And there in a backstreet of Henry Street, we found our little oasis. We started to discuss the apparent mess that Ireland as a nation is in the middle of at the moment, with recession and general bad governing. Don't get me started on the schoolsystem...

Anyway, a woman started talking to us, and her story was both amazing and disturbing. Her relationship with the police, The Garda, was everything else than good. I will not go in detail here, but her story contained abuse, drug-dealing and lack of trust. It seemed the Garda thinks they stand outside the law, and  don't abide to the law they are supposed to be upholding.

We sat and talked with her for almost 3 (!) hours, and my idea of the system had really been altered in such a short time...

Now was the time for a pint, so we headed down to The Brazen Head; Ireland's supposed oldest pub. It was so good to finally sit down and enjoy a pint of  Guinness while looking back on the day that went so fast.

Siân had to catch the bus back to Bray (south of Dublin), so hugs were shared and I sincerely hope to meet here again.

So after 2 pints, me and Steven headed home for Phibsborough, and the Dublin night gave the perfect end of a brilliant day.

My trip to Ireland: part 6

Ireland's history has fascinated me for many years, and while I was there I could feel how important it was as an identification-marker. People were very aware of their history, of the great men and women that made a difference through hundreds of years, during both occupation and freedom. It's through the history they identify who they are, and it was so inspirational for a history-student from Norway to see a place where history really means something. A place were history is lived and not confined to dusty books in the very back of the library.

The last part of my stay was spent in the capital of the Emerald Isle; Dublin. A city steeped in history, where both rebels and poets found inspiration and acted on it. This is the city of saints and scholars, of culture beyond your wildest imagination and the most extreme political environment north of  Cork and south of Malin Head.
And of course is everything connected; you cannot understand one thing without consider all the other factors too.
But let's not drown ourselves in all the problems. Let me begin my tale from Dublin...

Dublin is perhaps the place I've heard the most about the last few years, and it shouldn't come as any surprise that city is has a special place in my heart. I'm not a big fan of capitals (especially not my own; Oslo) because many of them are loosing their own identity when they meet the world; they are trying to be like everybody else. Please stick to what you can Dublin: BE IRISH!
Anyway, to just come to city I had heard so much about, was an experience for life. To see the place which is perhaps mentioned in more songs than any other place on the globe, the home and battleground for men like James Joyce, Padraig Pearse, Brendan Behan, Thomas Moore, Roger Casement, Sean O'Casey, Theobald Wolfe Tone, Bram Stoker and many more...They have all given this city a reputation and flavour that unlike many other international capitals still keep its contact with its past.
*Sorry if my word are incomprehensible...it is just that this city and my experience of it is difficult to describe in normal, neutral words. If you don't follow me, just ask me, please*

We arrived in the city on a fairly sunny Friday, and the walk from Busaras to Phibsborough took much longer time than planned because of two things:
1) No map
2) My suitcase had for some unknown reason gained weight in Donegal....
But we got there eventually, and it was a really nice place we would stay for the next 5 days.

Great place

Just as when I came to Derry, it took me some time to come to terms with the fact that i was actually IN Dublin. So every step I took, every sound I heard and all I saw was of great interest. I was like a newborn child, soaking it all up. The way back to the centre of the city; O'Connell Street, I tried to take notice of specific buildings that would help me remember the way (I have a really lousy sense of direction, so I had to keep my eyes wide open all the time).

So I counted churches....

This one was the closest to were we lived, and it was a truly amazing building. It feels like the building itself is growing into the skies, and I would soon understand that this rule counted for more than churches. Many buildings in this town is something more than just buildings, they are symbols of power and strength.

But Dublin is more than just a city of churches and big buildings. Its streets are also a source to some of the most horrifying and awe-inspiring stories ever told in the history of this nation.

When we passed this street, I asked Steven if he knew its significance in Irish history. Because something happened here in 1914... I came over this name in a song, and you know me: have to check everything up :p

Well, let me get to the story:

On July the 26th 1914 the Irish Volunteers landed some 900 German rifles and 29 000 rounds of ammunition on the Howth-peninsula north of Dublin, where they were met by members of the Irish Citizen Army, led by countess Markiewicz, ready to take the weapons to Dublin in wheelbarrows and hand carts.

At this point had the King's Own Scottish Borderers been informed of the situation, and sent out from the Kilmainham Barracks. They met them at Clontarf, but no weapons were seized because the Irish managed to keep the soldiers talking so long that they managed to hide the rifles.

But problems started in Bachelor's Walk were a large crowd had gathered and they were not pleased with seeing the KOSB's there.The soldiers were fairly frustrated, and at one point did they turn and started attacking the unarmed crowd, killing 3 and 32 were injured. As history would tell us, this wouldn't be the last time they did so...

I learned about this event through a song called "The Bachelor's Walk", and the first and the two last verses goes like this:

You true-born sons of Erin's Isle, come listen to my song,
My tale is one of sorrow but I won't detail you long,
Concerning the murderous outrage that took place in Dublin Town
When a cowardly regiment was let loose to shoot our people down.

On Bachelor's Walk a scene took place, which I'm sure had just been planned.
For the cowardly Scottish Borderers turned and fired without command.
With bayonets fixed they charged the crowd and left them in their gore,
But their deeds will be remembered in Irish hearts for evermore.

God rest the souls of those who sleep apart from earthly sin,
Including Mrs. Duffy, James Brennan and Patrick Quinn;
But we will yet avenge them and the time will surely come,
That we'll make the Scottish Borderers pay for the cowardly deeds they've done

A great man

Dublin has indeed a glorious history, but wasn't just filled with rebels and poets. The man above, Jim Larkin, was an ordinary man that made extraordinary things happen. He may not have fought with a gun, or planned attacks on the "enemy" in the normal meaning of the word. His weapon was his tongue and fiery engagement for the workers of the city. He became a pillar in the growing labour-movement, and is most famous for his role in 'the Dublin-lockout' in 1913. The centre of dispute was about the Irish workers right to unionize, and the lockout lasted from 26th August 1913 to 18th January 1914. The workers in Dublin lived in terrible conditions, with over 30 000 families living in less than 15 000 tenements, neighbourhoods were like slums!

The strikes ended the 18th January 1914 when many workers were on the brink of starvation, and many of them signed pledges that they wouldn't join any unions. The employer clearly benefited from not having any workers that were united, while the workers unions were almost left in the gutter, broken.

But his words still rings in the mind of every Irishman who fight for the rights of the workers:

"It means that the men who hold the means of life control our lives, and, because we workingmen have tried to get some measure of justice, some measure of betterment, they deny the right of the human being to associate with his fellow."

 

The GPO

O'Connell Street is one of the broadest in Europe ( it measures 49 meter in width at its southern end and 46 meter at the north),  on both sides can one see historic buildings and in the median can you see sculptures of many important Irish leaders: Daniel O'Connell (1775-1847); the spokesman for Catholic emancipation, Jim Larkin and Charles Stewart Parnell (1846-1891); who fought for Home Rule, but sadly he got his political career smashed by a divorce-scandal...

Earlier was O'Connell Street the home of a famous pillar with Lord Nelson on top of it, but in 1966 the IRA thought that "enough is enough" and they blew him to pieces..

1966 was also the 50th anniversary for the Easter Rising, so I can understand why the IRA wanted that pillar gone :p

One of the things I looked forward to the most, was to see the GPO. The place where Padraig Pearse read out "The Proclamation of the Irish Republic" the 24th April, 1916, and caught the English more off guard than any other rising had done in over a hundred years. Those who fought here the fatal days in 1916 were idealists, they believed in something higher than themselves, they believed that freedom also could be given to Ireland. Not from the English, but from their own hands, through their own actions. They wanted to be masters in their own land, and who can blame them for that? They had been suppressed for hundreds of years, deprived for their voice in the international society. It was now time for the Irish with a capital letter, but as Yeats wrote in his poem "1916";

Now and in time to be,
Wherever green is worn,
Are changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born. 

 the rising failed, and were seen as a stupid act by its contemporaries. People asked themselves: WHY NOW?! They were so close to Home Rule...

And if the English had just put the rebels in prison, life wouldn't have changed, this date in 1916 wouldn't have turned into a watershed in Irish history at all. But they turned them into martyrs for the Irish cause by executing them, one by one, and there was no turning back from this point.

But in the middle of it all, one question comes to mind: Does the people and the government look to Pearse and his men today, do they care about what was being said that day 94 years ago, these words:

The Irish Republic is entitled to, and hereby claims, the allegiance of every Irishman and Irishwoman. The Republic guarantees religious and civil liberty, equal rights and equal opportunities to all its citizens, and declares its resolve to pursue the happiness and prosperity of the whole nation and of all its parts, cherishing all the children of the nation equally, and oblivious of the differences carefully fostered by an alien government, which have divided a minority from the majority in the past.

Have they lost their meaning?

The Spike/Spire/ high-pointy-thing....

I think this picture really captured the feeling I had when I tried to spot the top...it's like it keeps going on forever (well, it is "only" 120 meter tall). And maybe the republicans will leave this be, compared to the Nelson-pillar which stood on the exact same place...

The Liberator; Daniel O'Connell

The uncrowned king of Ireland; he got that nickname for a reason. This man fought with words to the better the conditions for Catholics all over Ireland, who at his time were victims for the Penal Laws. These laws deprived them of  their basic right to exercise their faith, speak Gaelic (it was seen as rebellious behaviour, and had to be avoided at all costs), hold a high post and to be Irish. Even if the majority of Ireland's population was Catholic was it the protestant landlords that owned most of the land. The Catholic had the laws against themselves when it came to acquire property, and after O'Connells death, strong forces kept working for a fair system, based on the three F's: fair rent, fixity of tenure, and freedom of sale. But O'Connell will be remembered for bringing about what in the end would result in total catholic emancipation.

Trinity College

So after wondering around in O'Connell way too long, we crossed the O'Connell-bridge (surprise surprise) and found our way to one of the universities of the city; Trinity College. This proved to be another example of a very strict but still beautiful form for architecture. This was university in every aspect, and one more time felt I fairly embarrassed of my own university back home...This was how a university should look like, a place where knowledge was exchanged with blood, sweat and tears.

In Dublin fair city, where the girls are so pretty...

The tart with the cart; or Molly Malone if you like. This woman is perhaps one of the figures that most people associate with Dublin. And the song about her and her cockles and mussels was one of the first Irish songs I learned, and awakened my interest for the treasure-trove of songs this nation has hidden away. Alive alive'o, alive alive'o, crying cockles and mussels, alive alive'o!...

St Stephens Green

This is one of the many parks in Dublin and they all give its people a chance to breath. I could have stayed there forever, but they close it at sunset...

When we walked through this park we noticed something peculiar. Well, peculiar is perhaps the wrong word for it...

It seems like every person that has ever done something for this city or this country has been commemorated through some sort of sculpture or statue. And I guess, from what we saw, that St Stephens Green has more than any other park in Dublin ^^

St Stephens Green was formerly owned by the Guinness-family, and was given to the people of Dublin in 1880, and has since then been a popular place for recreational activities and picnics. 

An important woman with a will of steel

The history of Ireland has not just been affected by great men, but also some amazing women. Sadly, I don't know so much about her, but I aim to learn so when I get more time on my hands I will be reading about her.
One small have I heard about her though: after the Easter Rising; where she was an accomplice (member of the ICA = Irish Citizen Army), the court sentenced her to death (like all the other leaders), but they changed it to life in prison on; "account of the prisoner's sex." Some sources report that she told the court, "I do wish your lot had the decency to shoot me" however the alleged transcript reports that she said "you cannot shoot a woman"

An idealist; Robert Emmet (1775-1803)

There have been many students throughout the centuries that have believed they could change the course of history. Robert Emmet was no exception, but as so many other his attempted failed totally. He was tried and executed for high treason. But he is still serves as an example and his everlasting words from his trial, still echoes in the soul of many an Irish man and woman:

"Let no man write my epitaph; for as no man who knows my motives dare now vindicate them, let not prejudice or ignorance, asperse them. Let them and me rest in obscurity and peace, and my tomb remain uninscribed, and my memory in oblivion, until other times and other men can do justice to my character. When my country takes her place among the nations of the earth, then and not till then, let my epitaph be written."

So Dublin is indeed the city of rebels....

Charles Stewart Parnell

My first day in Dublin turned out to be everything I hoped for: an adventure, a moving experience, and a day beyond anything I've ever experienced before. I'm sorry that the Dublin-chapter of my trip will be divided into several posts, but if i didn't do that, you would probably have fallen asleep in the middle of my story.
So here's to Dublin *toasting with a big cup of tea*:

ERIN GO BRAGH!

To Plunkett, Pearse, McDonagh and Clarke

Today is a day of sorrow, for today were 4 gallant men shot dead for their belief in a free and independent Ireland.

These men will stand among the heroes of Ireland until the day of doom and even further, and will continue to inspire young men and woman in their quest and fight for a better world.

You will not be forgotten, nor your dream of freedom and liberty for good men and woman.

May you rest in peace

 

1916

I should have written this post last Saturday, when it was on that day 94 years ago that the Irish said enough is enough. They were tired of being bullied around by a land who thought that nothing could stand against it, and that does who did eventually would have to subdue themselves to English rule. But the Irish were stubborn, they didn't want to be English, they wanted to be what God made them: IRISH! So here's to the spirits of all those who died for the Irish cause, the men from Dublin, Donegal, Limerick, Belfast, Cork, Wexford and Galway...every city gave their men to fight for freedom, for Ireland's cause. Some of these men stood outside The General Postoffice in O'Connell Street this day 94 years ago, and defied what history seemed to have decided was the truth for them: They should not think their own thoughts, they should only say YES, SIR! to every order given by the English authorities, and definately NOT say that: This land is OURS. 

But despite the odds, these men went for the dream, and shook the english to his core

"Ireland for the Irish, turn the British back to sea"

This is what the songs says, and believe it or not: IT IS THE TRUTH. A country and a people belong together, not separated by wind, war and time. 

So today I raise the glass to the men who fought for what they believed in in the GPO and the streets of Dublin these fatal days in 1916. May their memory never be forgotten

Erin go Bragh!

Irish Proclamation of Independence

1,517 deaths - 15th April 1912

Today should be the day when I would let my frustration against the local team, since it seems like they are doing nothing right at the moment. But that was before I opened today's newspaper. Today is a historic day in several aspects, but I will only take one thing into account: RMS Titanic.
This is a story that concerns me on different levels, and for different reasons.

I have all my life been fascinated by men who believe in breaking records. And this ship was truly a record; bigger and "better" than any ship built before it. But even the ship that "couldn't sink" had it flaws. Far too few lifeboats was the most dangerous risk they took...as they said: We wouldn't need them. There were only a lifeboat-capacity of 1,178, and on this fatal journey were there 2,223 souls on board.
But the investors and the leaders were wrong and people had to pay a high price for their mistakes.

The ship had its fair share of  emigrants, bound for a new life and a new hope in 'Americay'. They came from all over Europe; Sweden, England, Ireland and Finland. These passengers were 'stuffed' in were they belonged: Third class.
And we all know the story; the ship wasn't infallible. In their quest for the fastest crossings of the Atlantic, the captain took a risk not worth taking. they knew they could hit icebergs, but still they went on at full speed. Nothing could help them when the iceberg appeared right before their eyes.
The ship who couldn't sink was in fact SINKING.
1st and 2nd class got help from the crew to find their lifeboats, but 3rd class were left all on their own. they had to find there way through a ship they barely knew. But for some fortunate souls, there were some of the crew with a heart beating for humans, no matter what class they belonged to. I want to mention just one, as an example for us today: William Denton Cox. He escorted two groups of women and children to the lifeboats with the help from steward Albert Victor Pearcey. This brave man went down for a third group and was never seen again. A toast to his memory
I will not summarize the whole story from this fatal journey, but I want to make people aware of how history never let us go, it always wakes the soul from its slumber and makes us feel again. History is a wonderful cave of treasures in our search for knowledge and we must never let it fade away. Make history alive, TODAY.

So one minute silence for those who died in the North-Atlantic this horrid day in 1912

May you all rest in peace