Two days in Dublin

It's bank holiday Monday and I'm on the train to Ennis via Limmerick. Time to catch up on the blog. 

Dublin is my favourite of the (three) cities I have seen so far. To be fair, I only spent a day in Liverpool, not a night, so I can't judge it fairly. But it seems pretty likely the music scene in Dublin is the best of the lot. If I've overstayed anywhere on the trip so far, it was in London. 

I got in on Saturday after the ferry ride from Holyhead, and proceeded immediately to seek out the best traditional music spots...and places to drink. The end result was a rather boozy evening in which I went to about 8 pubs, including the Cobblestones, which is a wonderful old pub in the Smithfield area where musicians gather to play in the tiny front bar, and everyone else packs in and struggles to get a good viewing spot. I saw some excellent Bluegrass at 4pm, and later, at about 9pm, some proper traditional music with fiddle, flute, guitar and bodhran, although by that stage the crowd noise in the bar was so loud the musicians were sometimes inaudible, and the bar staff kept having to shoosh everyone, especially when the singers did an unaccompanied solo performance.  

In the gap in between, I took in the Jamieson's distillery and had a selection of three whiskies, one of which is my favourite of the trip - Method and Madness Single Grain. I also went for a quick beer at The Brazen Head, which has been there since 1198! One pub had 'traditional music' in the form of a chubby boy with a guitar playing 'Suspicious Minds', so I left again in haste. Two other pubs (Swift's and O'Shea's) wouldn't let me in. I am running low on clothes, and was wearing tartan pants and a sleeveless vest. My scraggly traveler's beard may have added to my dishevelled appearance. I went back to the Cobblestones, and wished I had never left it. 

All the while, I was surrounded by other tourists - all of us looking for that place where there weren't so many tourists, but alas, wherever we were, there were tourists there. One American guy even asked me if he knew of a less touristy bar - as if I would know. The Yanks are here in droves, and so are the Eastern Europeans. The locals don't advertise where really good sessions are. 

Yesterday, I woke up at about 10, hungover, and went looking for a barber and a new shirt. After I had achieved a semblance of respectability, I walked along the Liffey to Capelizod, where Finnegan's Wake is set. Nearby, in Phoenix Park, there is a medieval castle house, an ancient dolmen from the mesolithic era, and Viking archaeology too - people have been settled around the Liffey forever. About 8 miles of walking had rid me of my hangover, and I was feeling fine by the time I caught the bus back to Central Dublin. I sought out Piper's Corner - another famous traditional music bar. It was also full of tourists. The music was on uilleann pipes, mandolin, two fiddles and a guitar. Again, it was excellent. Half the musicians didn't seem to know each other before the session, but they all knew the tunes and forms well enough. One boy on the fiddle looked about twelve, the piper, seventy. Its a nice, communal tradition, free to participate, free to observe. I don't think they get paid...they just do it because they like it. 

On my way home I walked past Swift's where I had been so rudely ejected there night before. Damn them, I thought. If they won't except me with vest and shabby beard, they don't deserve me with haircut and new shirt. So I went to Arthur's, across the road, and saw a crazy-looking fellow play honky-tonk piano for half an hour. The way he was dressed, he wouldn't have gotten into Swift's either. Maybe that's the trick round here - play music, and you can dress how you like. 

Ennis tonight, then settling in to longer term accomodation (with washing machine) in rural County Clare, near the folk festival that starts on Thursday. I meet my friend Daniel from Adelaide tomorrow. It'll be nice to have some company here, that isn't tourists trying to get away from other tourists. I think all the actual Dubliners were out of town for the Bank holiday weekend, going to the various football derbies, or, serving behind the bar, answering the same old questions with a wry and patient smile.