Today I will talk to you about the rest of my trip to Dublin. After my friends left, and I was on my own, I got down to business. Since it was already Monday, I had missed any chance of going on the Dublin Literary Pub Crawl, which sounds like a perfect mix between really corney, funny, and interesting. From what I understand, you are taken around to different places in famous novels by Irish writers, or that take place in Dublin, you get drunk, and in  each place people act out the scene for you. Sounds fantastic right? Well I’m with all of you on this missed opportunity.

My first adventure was to Dublinia, the Viking museum. Museums here are big on being interactive. I stopped and traced my name in the Viking alphabet, found instructions to make a traditional Viking dress (which I am going to make when I get home), I forgot to take down notes for the shoes, otherwise I would probably have a pair of super fashionable Viking shoes as well! Dublin was the first Viking settlement, although Dublin does not get it’s name from them. Duvlinn (I don’t believe that is spelled correctly, I will check it later) is the old Irish word for Black Water. The pool that was in front of what is now Dublin Castle used to wind around the old Viking town/village. The museum made a lot of noise, which I don’t usually like. There were rooms set up the way Vikings were believed to have set up their homes. When I walked in, there would be a voice telling me the use of the fire in the middle of the room. On one wall was a poster with a head shaped screen cut into it. The poster explained about Viking way of life, while the screen illuminated to show a man’s face asking if you had the specific qualities necessary to be a Viking. I learned that I would not make a good Viking. If the poster freaked me out, I don’t think I would do well in hand to hand combat. While I write this, I imagine that I am actually talking to someone, which is making this hard to write. I keep swinging my arms and almost knocking my computer off my lap. I really just don’t have the words for how amazing this museum was, or how scared I was every time I turned corner. I think I half expected to see a Viking waiting to attack me with his ax!

St Micheal’s tower is this seemingly random tower connecting the museum to Christ Church next door.

I also went to the National Gallery, Library and Museum. The Gallery had a lot of paintings, mostly from Irish artists. Most of this art depicted historical events, and I felt like I was walking though an illustrated history textbook as I walked though the galleries. That makes it sound boring and as though I did not have a good time, that would be an inaccurate description. I really enjoyed the Gallery. The paintings didn’t seem overcrowded (I’m not exactly sure that this is what I liked about them, but there was something about these paintings that I found pleasing that I don’t usually find). The Museum had many partially preserved human remains that had been dug up in bogs. It is fascinating how archeologists can tell so much about who a person was in society based on their remains (mostly on how they were killed, but still). Moat of the people were from noble classes, and were probably killed because someone else wanted their position. I also found out about the history of Irish warfare. Ireland is a wet country full of bogs, so standard European (English and French) warfare was not very practical here. The heavy armor wearing and horse riding soldiers would have had a hard time getting anywhere. Light chainmail and foot soldier were much more practical. Also, Ireland has a history of underpopulation. Most wars did not involve the mass murder of people, instead the Irish simply tried to steal land though cattle raids. When they got ready to fight the English for their independence, they were fully unprepared (they probably had no notion of how to strategize a full on war).

The Library had an exhibit on WB Yeats. In the entrance, three panels were set up. Images were projected onto the screens, and famous Irish people were recorded reading some of Yeats’ poems. There were lots of letters to and from him, his journals, and videos about his life. He was a pretty cool dude, unhappy, but cool.

My last stop was to a cute little park, where I found the Oscar Wilde statue. Apparently the house where he grew up was across the street, but it started snowing as soon as I got to the statue, and I decided not to wander the street looking for the house. Across from the state were two smaller statues perched on pillars which were covered in Wilde quotes. I fell that it was quite appropriate that it started snowing just then, I don’t know why though. Although I did not find Wilde’s house, I did find Jonathan Swift’s door.