Days in Dublin

This completely refurbished, listed Georgian townhouse opened as a guesthouse in 1999. It was built in 1807, and it still holds many of its original features, which have been maintained and sensitively incorporated into the property. As you climb the short staircase, protected by iron railings, you enter the hotel through the bright red door with its concrete columned frame. The reception area is subtlety set back out of view and in pride of place is the stunning lounge with its tall ceiling, light paintwork, comfortable chairs, and impressive candelabra as the centrepiece. This is a communal area and was very pleasant to sit in whilst waiting for friends.

The staircases are typically very steep and the view back to the arch hallway is well setoff by the classic balustrade and spindles. All of the fourteen en-suite bedrooms were upstairs, and although not huge, were of adequate size. Tea- and coffee-making facilities were in the room with an ample supply of beverages (ask for more if you run out), the bed was comfortable (although only a standard size), and the TV reception good. I have to say that the view from our room was not even half-decent as we overlooked dingy back yards and fairly ordinary slate roofs.

Breakfast was served in the basement in a light, bright, and modern dining room. Plenty of drinks served on-demand and a buffet area for cereals, bread-rolls, and jams, but a custom-made cooked breakfast freshly prepared from a small kitchen. This was indeed a "proper" breakfast to set you up for the day!

The young owner was very accommodating in her approach, as can be demonstrated by our experience one night. We’d booked a taxi to take us to our chosen restaurant, where we’d booked a table. On advice, we’d asked the people carrier to collect us in plenty of time, but despite pursuing the taxi firm, the cab didn’t arrive. We had to cancel our table and were unable, on this Saturday night, to find a table for six. The guesthouse "opened up" the dining room for us and we bought in Fish and Chips and numerous bottles of wine. After our makeshift meal we adjourned to the lounge and enjoy a glass or two of Irish whiskey.

The guesthouse was about a fifteen-minute walk to O’Connell Street, but we never did find a bus route from here. However, the walk was interesting, with a variety of small local shops and pubs on route.

This guesthouse proved to be a great choice; we were well situated in easy reach of town, but not subjected to the noise of being in the centre, and we had a great ‘landlady’ who provided us with local knowledge and was very friendly.

The buses tour round the city (you’ll get a map showing the stops), and you’ll be treated to a witty commentary from start to finish. All the drivers must have been recruited for their local knowledge and comedic skills, and the non-stop repartee would not be out of place in any nightclub.

Although the open-top buses make for good viewing, they are less than adequate when it’s raining. Six of us sat upstairs with our umbrellas for part of a journey (when it rains in Dublin, it seems to do the job properly!) and for another leg of the tour sat downstairs, with the water cascading down the staircase like a river in flood. But no one seemed to care –- it was just part of the tour experience!

At one point, when we were a fair way from the bus stop, we saw a bus approaching. We burst in to a gallop (not a pretty sight!), waving at the bus to ask it to stop –- the driver smiled broadly and waited for us. When we clambered breathlessly on board, he said, "To be sure, there was no need to run. I would have waited anyway." A few stops later, we indicated that we wanted to get off to visit the Guinness factory. He proceeded to say, over the loudspeaker system, "If there’s anyone upstairs wanting to get off, can I ask that you wait ‘til my breathless English buddies have cleared the vehicle." A big wink followed as we disembarked, and he cautioned us to "take it easy, my friends." Some may find his words a little discourteous, but it was all in great humour and just part of the banter.

All the drivers were anxious to ensure that their charges enjoyed the journey; they were all of good humour and would ask "have you seen...?" Indeed, often they would strongly recommend that you "get off at the next stop" and give you directions to places that are worth visiting. They’d even suggest how long you might want to do "the viewing justice". The ones we travelled with were prepared to give individual advice on best pubs, clubs and restaurants and certainly knew "the crack". If you want to chat, they’ll respond, and if you want to compete with their humour, try, but be warned that these guys are professionals; they will give as good as they get.

We used the buses for a couple of days –- it’s the cheapest way to get around Dublin, and I doubt whether you’ll find another way of cramming so much humour and factual information into a day’s sightseeing.

We weaved our way from Marlborough Street along Sackville Place, back along Earl Street North, pausing to admire the statue of James Joyce, and then along Cathedral Street. St Mary’s Cathedral is not impressively sited, but the interior is worth a peek, with its columns, pastel decoration, and intricately carved alter.

Back on O’Connell Street, which was partially devastated in the 1916 uprising, there are a few original surviving buildings. There’s the infamous General Post Office, the headquarters of the uprising, which still, despite a pounding from British troops, survives to tell the tale. This edifice was built in 1815 to last, and although the imposing columned façade carries the scars (the pillars are pitted with bullet marks), it’s still impressive. I went in to check it out, and it’s got one heck of an internal structure. The walls tell the story of Ireland and its "problems," and I was privileged to overhear a grandfather explaining the history to his grandchild. I say "privileged" because he was at pains to make the story balanced and attempted to explain the historical context. I couldn’t resist commenting to him, and he seemed quite chuffed that I’d recognised his measured interpretation of history.

Surprisingly, the clock outside of Clery’s department store has survived, and the only surviving townhouse is now part of the Royal Dublin Hotel.

O’Connell Street is also "littered" with statues. At the southern end stands the monolithic reminder of Daniel O’Connell, the great Irish leader, and it is not without poignancy to observe the numerous bullet holes that scar this magnificent monument that is protected at the base by guardian angels.

Amidst the old and historically significant statues, among them Charles Parnell, the leader of the Home Rule Party and "uncrowned King of Ireland"; James Larkin, a great trade unionist; Father Mathew, founder of the Pioneer Total Abstinence Movement; and Sir John Gay, provider of the city’s water supply, is the fountain to celebrate the 1988 millennium. The city planners designed this representation of Joyce’s Anna Livia, the river goddess of the Liffey, and Dubliners immediately christened this work of art "the floozy in the Jacuzzi". Not learning from this mistake, the planners also constructed a 390-foot stainless steel spire to represent the "spirit of Dublin". Locals, proud of their ability to mock in rhyme, have called it the "Stiffy by the Liffy".

Merchants Arch, the traditional entrance to the Temple Bar, leads to a short, narrow, and dark alley lined with shops–it feels a bit like the beginnings of a bazaar–and then opens up into the bright modern area known as the Temple Bar Square. The area of Temple Bar is named after Sir William Temple, who acquired the land in the 1600s and "bar" refers to (I didn’t know this until we visited Dublin) a riverside path. By the mid 1800s it was a thriving business area that was, following a period of serious decline, rejuvenated in the 1960s when artists and retailers "invaded" the neglected buildings.

Now it’s a buzzing place full of high-quality restaurants, coffeeshops, small exclusive shops, and of course, artists’ outlets and studios. Weave your way through the cobbled streets and alleyways, observe the overstated murals on some of the buildings, and just take in the atmosphere. If you’re like us, you’ll double back on yourself, but it really won’t matter, as the place is alive in the daytime. At night it’s positively buzzing.

At the far end of Temple Bar is the winding Fishamble Street, which has history going back to the mid 1600s, when it was the focus of the local fish trade. Also, it was in a building, long since demolished, on this street that Handel conducted the debut performance of Messiah.

Cross over Dame Street and head for the castle district. We didn’t have time to tour the castle, but there are some photo opportunities en route, along with some superb old properties, including the hostel for sick "room keepers," founded in 1790, and "the Long Hall," housing a typical old-fashioned Irish bar (not quite sure what that’s like now that Ireland has imposed its non-smoking rule).

The Powerscourt Townhouse was originally a mansion built in the 1770s for Viscount Powerscourt (whoever he might have been!), but is now an exclusive shopping centre for specialist galleries, antique shops, and jewellers. It has retained several original features, including some fine stuccowork, while a glass dome encloses a central courtyard, making it a good place to take an afternoon tea. Whilst you’re in shopping mode, take a trip to the nearby Covered Market on Drury Street, especially good for antique jewellery, but also for an interesting mosey.

When walking around this district, keep looking upwards, as there are some interesting signs, decorated facades, and wall plaques. These can be spotted particularly along the banks of the Liffey, away from O’Connell Bridge. We liked the terracotta decoration on the Sunlight Chambers on Essex Quay that confirmed its main purpose of a soap manufacturer.

We did stop to take photographs of the statue of the infamous Molly Malone and of course had a rousing chorus of "cockles and mussels" as we sang, so others were quick to join in. We nearly had a barber shop choir formed!

We slipped into one of the many pubs on our route, O Donoghue’s on Merrion Row. We weren’t in a rush, as the Guinness settled around the glass. Pouring four Guinnesses is both a work of art and very time-consuming, but hey, who’s in a rush? It was beginning to rain outside, our wives were, doubtless, enjoying the ambiance of Dublin shops, and we settled for another glass or two before venturing outdoors again.

The rain had stopped, and we headed for Merrion Square. This is a really grand Georgian square, and the houses still retain their early appeal. The walls are covered (perhaps I exaggerate a little) with plaques detailing the lives of the famous that lived here: notably, Daniel O’Connell, WB Yeats, Oscar Wilde, and the Duke of Wellington, who was born just round the corner on Merrion Street Upper. There’s an impressive statue of Oscar Wilde on the square that’s worth a closer inspection.

We doubled back on ourselves and headed for St Stephen’s Green via the most impressive Neo-classically designed government building. This domed building overshadows the rest of the district, and it’s interesting that it was the last building project undertaken by the British, starting its life in 1911 as the Royal College of Science. I’m sure we would have dallied longer if St Stephen’s had not been so wet, but we satisfied ourselves with the knowledge that this is probably the oldest enclosed areas of common ground in Ireland and gazed upon the four-storied ivy clad Georgian Houses.

A detour down Dawson Street, and we were in front of the Lord Mayor’s pad, the Mansion House, a Queen Anne-style building with a Victorian stucco façade. Then we popped into St Ann’s Church, a striking building with some absolutely gorgeous stained glass windows. Well worth a visit.

Back onto Grafton Street, we passed the famous Bewley’s Oriental Café and headed for O’Connell Bridge. In front of us is the curving columnar façade of the Bank of Ireland, a most impressive building that started off life in the 1720s as the Irish Parliament.

Well, we’ve walked our feet off; just as well, we had our enforced stop at O’ Donoghue’s, and there in front of us were our bag-carrying wives who, coincidentally, have completed their day in the shops of Dublin. Perhaps we should offer to help carry the shopping!