Baile Átha Cliath

Ta me air meisce.

No, not quite the warm irish welcome one should be expecting but it's very close to the heart of the irish spirit though (pun intended)- it just means 'I am drunk' in Irish, or traditionally known as Gaelic.

Before i set foot on the capital of the Celtic Tiger that we call Dublin (or Duh Linn, meaning black pool), i was expecting Dubz to be the farrago of wealth, history, a deep sense of tradition and those left behind by the boom. it was all that but somehow a certain charm was lacking to complete this medley of magic that I feel in Edinburgh. the irish kazaam didn't quite work it for me but i'm afraid anything more would be deemed a sacrilegious cavil of the english/scottish-irish divide that history took so long just to bury or make it fade away. it's a personal thing in the end.

I amaze myself at how much i can conquer as a tourist in a day. a grand total of two days was what i required in the end to gobble up the main sights of the irish capital. i was actually left a little adrift of plans at 3pm on the second day and was relieved to be going home. it wasn't boring me per se but knowing no one and going to bars just in seek of company was just not aiding the entire process of getting to know the place just that little bit better. in a way, being alone has that side of its down. the up was of course, previously mentioned, the efficiency of clearing more attractions than i would want. good lad. for me the highlight was not the physical sights, but more the knowledge amassed that got me more internalised with the crafting of the irish state. in that sense, the visit to the dublin castle carved the deepest impression. it's apparently still the working place for the President (presently a woman, the second one on her second term, equating to ireland have to suffer through 21 consecutive years of women at the helm- imagine the matriarchy the men gets drowned in, ha, i'm only kidding of course). 800 yrs of anglo-norman rule the irish has to go through before attaining its hard-fought independence in 1922. it's also amazing how her language, gaelic, never smoulder away with time like bad mascara. the title of this post is incidentally city of dublin's gaelic name. the original 300-odd years of the guinness storehouse was something interesting and the christ church cathedral whose choir sang the premiere performance of Handel's Messiah Oratorio back in 1700s.

this is europe i guess. you cannot help but get sponged up by history like that. christ church cathedral has been around since william the conqueror invaded england in 1066- it's mind-blowing like that. the sense of national identity and patriotism is still so intact after all these times, it's hard to fathm where i come from, where national identity is awashed in a yellow sense of americanism and western media and the only last struggles to foster it back is the flimsy social glue of national education and silent threats. being chinese/singaporean has probably never been 'in'. but then again it'll be sad to update this sense of identity with a false sense of modernist injection and enforced ideals that almost has to be propoganised to work in some way or another. then again, football is that social glue that seems to be the modernist piece of equipment that works in europe- i was lucky to be amidst the action of this when ireland was against france in their world cup 2006 qualifying match and the fervent reaction to either sides is infectious. then again these things tie back in with this very entrenched gut sense of nationalism that runs way back. the reception at my hostel was slightly appalled to see the french people bringing down their flag and decorating their faces with the trois coleurs that she said, in half-jest, "they sure do bring their football everywhere." this is what i'm talking about, the entrechment of nationalism. so either way, we're all screwed, patriotically-speaking.

but i ramble. dublin is quite an eye-opener. they're really very proud with their literary exports. i've known more about james joyce and ulysses than i ever had in my life. he actually had a full schema to the book and a device to getting the whole thing started, it was almost scientific. scary.

and is it the mid-autumn yet? the closest thing i'm getting to snow skin is its inspiration of the actual climatic snow. so spare me the digs.