We just spent a few days in Dublin on our way home from Italy. When we departed Rome on Thursday it was ninety-seven degrees and dry as toast; when we got off the plane in Dublin two hours later it was in the mid-fifties and drizzling. The first thing I did was to buy a wooly sweater and a cap. I love Europe — you can change cultures as easily as changing your clothes.
We were there to visit our friends Marc and Cathy. He’s an American of Irish descent and she’s a Dubliner born and bred. They showed us a grand time, a brilliant time. That’s the way they talk over there.
First stop on Thursday evening, we met Marc at O’Donoghue’s bar — a perfect place to slip into the spirit of the Auld Sod. I noticed that Irish bartenders aren’t mixologists. They draw pints, they pour shots and they engage one and all in charming conversation — that’s it. I asked for a gin Martini and the barman looked at me quizzically.
“So, that would be a bit of Martini in a glass and then … a bit of gin?”
“Well, more like a slug of gin and then just a whisper of Martini.”
“Ah, just a whisper then,” he said with a smile. The smile is everywhere.
After O’Donoghue’s we checked out the lobby of the Shelbourne Hotel which drips with Irish history; then we strolled across a corner of St. Stephen’s Green to meet Cathy for dinner at Marc’s club — yes, he’s joined a club; he wants to establish himself as a Dubliner as soon as possible.
The Grand Canyon of Dublin
Friday was our day for James Joyce — a stop at Sweeny’s Chemists where Leopold Bloom bought his bar of lemon soap; then a stroll through the playing fields of Trinity College up to the vast and ancient library known as the Long Room, which Marc compared to seeing the Grand Canyon for the first time. We lunched at The Bank on College Green — I had seafood chowder, which was creamy and good, and a pint of Guinness. It was a lovely lead-up to a nap.
We generally ate well in Dublin. Often we had traditional Irish fare; a few nights we sampled newer, hipper food and it was all quite good. But we had just spent five weeks in Italy and that’s a hard act to follow. Mi dispiace, Dublin, but every taste in Italy is more vibrant — a string bean, a fresh pepper, a leaf of basil crushed in your fingers — more flavor, more smell. I don’t know how they do it.
Saturday, on Marc’s suggestion, Jill and I went to the Yeats Exhibition at the National Library of Ireland. We lost ourselves in it — we were there for hours. It has all sorts of films, interviews, famous recordings of his poems, stories of the Abbey Theater and the riots on the opening night of O’Casey’s Plough And The Stars. It explores the lives of the extraordinary women in his life, his Muses. Yeats is to Ireland what Dante is to Italy.
For lunch, Cathy drove us all out to Dalkey — with a stop along the way at The Forty Foot and Martello Tower where James Joyce and Oliver St. John Gogarty once resided. The Forty Foot is a bathing spot where grown people of both sexes leap into the cold sea and have their bodies turn bright pink. We observers were wearing sweaters and parkas.
Dalkey is a lovely town — it’s only minutes outside Dublin proper. Dalkey is where some famous folk have houses overlooking the bay to Dublin. We had lunch at The Queens — fish and chips and a Guinness for me; a vegetable curry for Jill — Irish food.
Us at Martello Tower
Earlier that day as we were entering the National Library, we walked up to a guard who was sitting behind his desk.
“Excuse me,” I said, could you point us to the Yeats show?”
He looked at me for a long time as if I were a little green man who had just walked off a space ship.
“May I ask where you’re from?”
“New York,” Jill said.
“Ah, Americans! You don’t dance around it, do you? You cut to the core of it. The “Yeats Show.” That’s marvelous.”
“What would you call it?” I asked.
“Well, from now on I’m callin’ it the Show.”
The Irish are great. Where else can someone call you feckin eedjit and mean it in the nicest way?
Hi Michael:
It was great to read about your time in Dublin and how much you enjoyed the city. You had very good guides and they pointed you to a lot of the best places to visit.
As an undergraduate, I majored in engineering at University College Dublin. We studied at the old College of Science, which was about a block from O’Donoghue’s pub, where we spent many an enjoyable evening. I spent a year at Belvedere College, one of the two Jesuit secondary (i.e. high) schools that James Joyce attended. While Joyce was very respected by my English teacher, he was not so admired by the school management.
Michael, we met Jill, yourself and your American friends at the production of ‘Lulu’ in the Teatro Nuovo earlier this month in Spoleto. Hopefully, we will have a chance to share a bottle of wine together the next time you are in Spoleto.
Best
Donal
Michael,
If I wasn’t already in Dublin, after reading your entry, I’d be on an aer lingus flight now. Cathy and I had a delightful few days with you and Jill and I believe we used our collective common sense not to jump into the bracing Irish sea water at 40 Foot. I understand that there are a number of explanations as to where the name 40 Foot came from – my theory: That’s about how high you shoot out of the water seconds after you have jumped in- next time perhaps- to at least give weight to my theory .
We have been flying aer lingus from JFK to Rome recently. In May we decided to spend some time in Ireland. Three days in Dublin and then a drive to Derry (or Londonderry depending upon your point of view). Friends with a home in Umbria near ours hosted a wonderful time for us. The north shore of Ireland is dramatic. However, the pubs were the best of all!
How wonderful to share your visit if only by blog. Great stuff, boyos.
@ Charlie — Thanks. How you doing?
@ Michael — We think we’ll be spending a lot of time exploring Ireland in the future. We love the people so much.
@ Donal — Thanks for responding. We’ll see you in Spoleto.
@ Marc — You guys were the hosts with the mosts.
Hello Mike,
So glad to know the “Pizza Party” tradition lives on. I’m also glad to have a venue for getting in touch with you.
I live at the southern Jersey Shore, Somers Point – Exit 30 on the GSP, with my husband of 24 years. Tom’s a foodie with a passion and talent for cooking. (I’m so lucky!) The two of us are avid travelers with our hearts pulling us back to Italy time and again. We’ve spent the past four winters (Feb – April) tripping from the toe of the boot to the cuff and loving every morsel and Region of it.
One of our favorite areas to stay is the southern part of Umbria. We rent an apartment in Arrone, a little castle village just south of Spoleto. This is where we discovered “Living In A Foreign Language.” (Thank you for that!) We both enjoyed the book immensely, mainly because it made us laugh out loud many times. Your story was so much our story. We thought we were the only stupidheads who ever put gasoline in a diesel rental. Our favorite wine is from the vineyard of Poggio Turri in Montefalco (’07 Montefalco Rosso 14.5%; we learned early on, this was not the wine to have at Lunch. Whoa!) We love pasta fresca any time of day prepared just about any way. However, we still pantomime the Italian language. For the most part, we’ve learned what we know food shopping at the mercato. . . so, it’s constantly improving.
We thought it would be fun to use some of your suggestions to make up an itinerary for a couple of day trips from Arrone. We called it, “In Search of Michael Tucker.” Please don’t think we’re stalkers. We honestly didn’t believe we could find your Rustico, your maccelaios, Jill’s pasta ladies, Palazzacio on the Valnerina, or Agritismo Bartoli in Patrico on Monteluco. But we did, because we love to eat, drink wine and enjoy an adventure. Thank you for all the great times . . . wish you were there.
We’re happy to say we’re looking forward to Jill’s and your performance in Cape May on August 27th. We’ll be the ones in the front row ready for the laughs, cheering you on, and tempting you with a bottle of Montefalco Rosso. Also, all 4 of your books are poised for autograph(s).
Buon viaggio! Ci vediamo in agosto!
@ Bev — Wonderful that you guys will be at Cape May. We’ll (and sign) talk after.
Hi Mike…
Found a great quote in Pat Conroy’s Cookbook (of all places)…don’t know if you’ve seen it.
“You go to Tuscany because you must; you go to Umbria because you can. It is the province of Italy you travel to when you want the country itself to enter the pores of your skin after you have grown weary with sites and endless churches and surly crowds moving therough the taut, sovereign air of museums. Umbria is Italy turned inward, a prayer to itself.”
@ Ed — This is perfect – it really nails Umbria. Thanks.
Wow – the Long Room alone made me add Dublin to my “Life Sabbatical” travel list.