What I Wore: Dublin {and Glendalough}

This is what I wore in Dublin, and one of Gman's favorite pictures of me {"in my element" as he likes to say}. It's pretty typical of my travel and cold weather attire. I wore those mocs until the bottoms fell out. And now they are in line to be taken to the cobbler so I can wear them again. Same case with that bag. I wore it every single day for almost 4 years and the handle finally gave out a few months ago. What can I say, I'm a creature of habit. If I like something I really stick with it.

In this picture, I'm reading an Irish fashion magazine. I like to try and pick up a local magazine on each of my travels. Its like a snapshot of a places' priorities and style. I like to gawk at the fashion and laugh about the local gossip. Sometimes you will see the same topics covered in American news and it's fun to compare the journalistic styles and opinions. Later when I'm home, I keep the magazines {which double as side tables} and look through them from time to time to remind me of my travels.

PS - I'm wearing a soccer {futbol/football} scarf around my neck. There was a big match that day, had to fit in and root for the home team!

Wardrobe: Dublin and Glendalough





necklace, jeans, jacket, umbrella, wellies, top, bag

While Gman and I were in Ireland it was cold and rainy. We went in March and got the impression from the people we talked to that this type of weather was pretty normal for most of the year. Dressing for the rain, especially when living out of a tiny suitcase, can be challenging. But it's important because having wet feet and trying to tour a city is no fun {blisters and whining abound!}.

I recommend a leather jacket and some wellies to stay warm and dry. As you know, I love my Hunters but I was recently introduced to this company, Joules, through numerous blogs. I love the feminine details on their rain boots, like these flowers. Wellies would have been perfect for our trek out to Glendalough too - that peet moss is muddy and would ruin most shoes {I wore some like this}.

Dublin is a casual city so this look could easily go from running around all day to listening to live music at a pub in the evening. Generally speaking, I like to add bits of ladylike elements to my rainy day look - the rain makes me feel flustered and frumpy. Well, except for the one rainy night in Paris...

What about you, how do you dress for the rain? Do you find it frustrating or exciting when your travel destination is rainy?

Destination: Glendalough, Ireland

This week I wanted to journey back to Ireland after getting distracted by out-of-town guests, going to The Bahamas and Thanksgiving.

While Gman and I were in Dublin we decided to take a day trip out to the countryside. The receptionist/concierge at our hotel, TheKingfisher Restaurant and Townhouse (Gman’s parents go to Dublin often and always stay here, it’s really lovely), recommended we take the Over The Top tour of Wicklow and Glendalough. It picked us up in the wee hours of the morning and took us out and back in the same day. As we left the city center of Dublin and drove into the suburbs there was a subtle transition into the working class neighborhoods. The architecture didn’t change, nor did the density of people. The homes kept their simple, clean lines and were packed in right next to each other, only now they had tiny gardens.

People were going about their everyday errands, grocery shopping, filling up at the gas station, waiting in traffic, tiding up the lawn, and gossiping on street corners. But what changed was the air. It was harsher, colder, and wetter. Low lying fog swept in and slithered across the peat moss as we drove further into the countryside.  Deep rolling mountains had only patches of dense forest. I imaged all the battles fought on those grounds. Our tour guide was good at telling us about significant events while also letting us quietly look out the windows and take it all in. Gman and I agreed that this was the Ireland of our imaginations.

Before arriving to the main attraction we drove up to a few vistas to snap some pictures. We saw herds of sheep scaling the steep slopes on the side of the road and little towns nestled in valleys. We stopped in one of those towns to grab a quick bowl of Guinness Stew. The restaurant we stopped in was not just for tourists; many people were there on their lunch break. I thought they would have been slightly impatient with our presence, as I’m always in a hurry for lunch, but they were kind and even pointed out the best desserts without eye rolls or long sighs.

Over time, Glendalough has absorbed a lot of Ireland’s history; from its founding as a monastery in the Middle Ages by St. Kevin, through times of religious and political strife, and nearly becoming obsolete. Since the 19^th century it has been partly restored and is a destination for domestic and international tourists alike, including historians and outdoor enthusiasts. The nearby lakes provide great hiking and water activities for all ages and abilities. It was raining while we were there so we didn’t venture too far from the bus. The ruins were impressive and haunting. I felt as if all the events of the past soaked into the ground and lingered in the air. We were forced to participate in hokey tourist rituals, such as rubbing a good luck stone, which despite my annoyance towards them, were actually fun.

Just as we jumped back into the van it started pouring rain and I napped (I’m a sucker for car rides). Back in Dublin, freshly intoxicated with the nostalgia of a past we never experienced, we ended the day in some pub, drinking some local brew, pretending that we lived there. Someday, maybe, someday.

Destination: Dublin, Ireland

I’m sitting at a tiny table inside of Bewley’s Oriental Caféon Grafton Street. I’m sipping a cappuccino and trying not to inhale my flaky, buttery croissant. It’s early in the morning, Gman and I flew in with the sunrise. We barely talk as we watch the commuters quickly walk to work and browse the morning newspaper. The crowd changes from heavy boots and jackets to dress shoes and suits as the morning ages. A flower seller meticulously sets up shop across the street from us.

On our way to the café we snuck into an open church to check out the architecture and décor, as we often do. The priest was there going through his morning routine. He struck up conversation with us and could not have been more friendly and hospitable. It seemed like not only this church was his to offer but Dublin and the whole of Ireland. He told us of his time in the U.S. and about his programming ambitions as we walked back to the door and out onto the street. He gave us a list of his favorite pubs and restaurants and we bid farewell.

This was typical of our interaction with the Irish people. Coming from the cold rat race of Manhattan, their warm hospitality was refreshing and made us feel as if Dublin was our home too.

We only had four days to explore so after I tried to lick every last crumb from my plate, it was time to move on to the next part of our day – visiting the Book of Kells and the Library of Trinity College. My experience with libraries growing up was our community library in Clearwater, Florida. The building was built in the 1980’s or 90’s with the main goal of getting the most square footage possible and seemingly no thought went into the interior design or details. The space was very institutional, including florescent lights, metal shelves, and thin, grey carpet. So you can imagine how overwhelming it was to walk through the Long Room. It was founded in the 16^thcentury and the current design developed throughout the 18^th and 19^thcenturies. Dark wood paneling line the walls of both stories, and as I walked through the long aisle I passed creamy white marble busts of great writers, thinkers, and donors. Antique books and new books filled every nook and cranny. I would much rather spend time in that sort of space!

We roamed the streets until late afternoon then took a power nap before heading out to dinner. We ducked into a pub, found a cozy corner, and endlessly talked about culture, politics, and art until our stomachs were full and our beers empty.

The next day was officially our drinking tour of Dublin. We started off at the Jameson factory for a tour and tasting. As with most tours, it was a bit cheesy but we did learn a lot about how whiskey is made and the differences between Irish whiskey, Scotch, and American Bourbon. I got to be one of the tasters and you can imagine how jealous Gman was. Who knew whiskey was as nuanced as wine?

We had to have lunch at the oldest pub in Dublin, the BrazenHead. This sealed our affections for Guinness stew as well as established our trip mascot, Ginger the champion drinking chicken. I must say, this restaurant isn’t particularly spectacular but as an American I am impressed by old things so it was neat to eat there.

The afternoon was spent at the Guinness Storehouse. The tour again was not thrilling but definitely educational and the views of the city from the drinking room at the top of the building were worth the trip up.

As I mentioned, we love checking out church architecture and design. It reveals a cultures’ priorities and aesthetics. We visited ChristChurch and St. Patrick’s Cathedral. I loved the decorative tiles and colorful details of both. In Christ Church we stumbled upon a girls’ choir concert which enlivened the space and made it feel relevant and special.

We were surprised at the variety of delicious food in Dublin. We ate at a French restaurant, Chez Max, and a Chinese one, Noble House, that met our high expectations of those types of food. Try the muscles at Chez Max.

… It’s now late into the night and I’m dancing with an Irish girl on our own makeshift dance floor. I can’t stop laughing and the room spins as I move around. It must have been our second or third bar in the touristy area, Temple Bar. The locals mixed with visitors from all parts of the globe. No matter what brought them to Dublin, business, hen parties (bachelorette parties on that side of the pond), or like two women we met, just to get away from their busy lives in the Netherlands as teachers and mothers. We danced and listened to music until we remembered that we were boarding a tour bus at 9:00 in the morning. On our way home, in a moment of desperation, Gman convinced me we needed to eat something greasy and so we stopped into McDonald’s. And his little plan worked, I was miraculously not hungover for our trip out to Glendalough, which I will share with you next.

St. Patrick's Day



St Patrick's Cathedral, Dublin, Ireland. photo my own

Happy St. Patrick's Day! Did you travel to celebrate? Any favorite destinations? Ireland is a given, but where else? I've heard the celebrations in Chicago, IL and Savannah, GA are great fun and the cities dye their rivers green (!). The parade here in NYC is a must too. Any great destinations outside the U.S.?

I'll be celebrating by having my favorite: Jameson on the rocks.